Star Beings

Caw caw motherfucker

I just had to do this. Then I can go back home and get some fucking sleep. I ready my rifle, steadying it on the concrete edge of the apartment building I'm perched on. I look down at the party bellow before popping in my earbuds. God I hate my job.
   I turn my music up, noise banging in my head. I aim my sniper rifle.
Ain't no rest for the wicked
Bang
Money don't grow on trees
Bang
We got bills to pay
Bang
Mouths to feed
Bang
Ain't nothing in this land for free
Bang
     I watch the blood of my last target splatter on to wall. They slump over, deader than a doornail. The people below scream and shout in horror and disgust. Five targets. Five hundred dollars. That's all these people are. Targets.
Maybe I should reintroduce myself....
My name is DJ.
And I used to be a star being.

      I stand and crawl off the roof. "Just targets." I remind myself. "They're just targets." I shove my hands in my pockets and stash my rifle behind a dumpster while I dig through my bag for a hoodie. I tug it on over my body suit, then I take apart my gun and stays the parts in my bag. That's probably not the best way to do it but I can barley afford my rent and groceries with what I get from assassination jobs. There's no way in hell I can afford a decent case.

It's been three years since the infamous "Starfall" happened. Since then, rumors have spread like wild fire. Mainly that the Star Beings were dead. That they had been privately executed by Anaideia. And part of that was true. The girl I was died that day. She burned with the tree that kept the base running. And I have the Star burned into my back to prove it. After I left Ethan's, I joined a crew of pirates and stuck with them for a while. But after about a year, they were in danger too. So I left them behind. I've been living alone since. And rent is high as fuck.
I call Lane and Natalie from time to time. The other Star Beings and I (plus Hera and Elian) meet once a year. And every year, it's the same thing.
"It's not safe enough"
Bullshit.
Anaideia Timor controls almost the whole goddamn planet. When is it ever gonna be safe? It's not. Hera and Elian just want to hide. And because they're technically our commanding officers, we have to listen. Even if the rebellion is all but non existent.

I slide the key into my door, unlock it, and step inside. Button runs over, rubs against my leg, and then meows loudly. "Yeah, I'll get you your dinner. Just give me a goddamn second." I mutter, tossing my bag into a chair. I grab her bowl and fill it up with Cat food. Then I set it back down. She looks at the food, looks back up at me, and meows loudly. "Oh fuck off." I mutter, flopping down on the couch and clicking on the tv. This is what my life has become. I go out, kill someone, come home, feed my cat, then sit down and watch tv while eating instant noodles. It's almost sad. When I was 15 I actually saw adventure and excitement in my future. Now all I see is tragedy and a wasted life.

       I shake myself awake. Shit. I fell asleep on the couch again. I get up, stretch, and stumble into the kitchen. "Coffee." I start the machine, the smell of bitter beans filling my nose. I glance out the window. It's raining for the third time in a week.
       I watch droplets hit my window, streaming down as if they're racing each other. It's oddly calming. A break in the storm of my life. The constant, crazy ass storm.
       The coffee maker beeps. "Caffeine." I scramble over and grab my cup, adding a little bit of sugar and cream. If I knew it wasn't scalding, I would chug it right here. But it would probably burn my tongue off if I did that. I hear my phone beep. I grab it and glance at the screen. "A news report?" I say with slight surprise. I read the article. There's a new L.O. base nearby. I smile. "A chance to cause some chaos." Yes, Hera and Elian both want us to hide....
           But they said nothing about raising hell undercover.

          I open my closet, grabbing the black bodysuit and trench coat from the rack. "Where's my mask?" I mutter, digging through my clothes. Maybe I should explain.
          One night I got tired of hiding in the shadows while the L.O. destroyed everything. So, I went out and raised some hell at a base. Someone nicknamed me "The Raven". I thought it was because of my wings but apparently it was because the L.O. saw me as an omen of death. Which makes sense. After that first night I just kept doing it, eventually making myself a costume that consists of a black trenchcoat, a black bodysuit, and a mask that looks like a Raven. I've been going out whenever I can since.
          My hand finally lands on a cold metallic beak. I snatch it out of the pile of clothes. "There you are." I sigh. I toss the stuff on my bed. I'll have to go out tonight. It's not smart to attack a military base in broad daylight. Especially if you're only one person. My phone rings. "Hello?" "Hey DJ." I sigh in relief at the sound of a familiar voice. "Hey Nat. How's it goin?"