I sit in the back of a truck.
My heart rate is spiking at each interval.
Higher.
Higher.
Higher.
This mission feels different.
It's an odd feeling.
I've gotten used to the guilt. The loneliness. The anxiety.
Something else eats me away tonight, though, as I sway with the truck.
Three words play in my mind:
Kill him quickly.
I need to get in, get out. It should be easy. Fast. Simple.
Honestly!
I need to get a grip on myself. Breathe in. Out. Calm my nerves.
I'm only assassinating an heir, right? He's not the Don. He should have less protection. Besides, he'll be at a restaurant.
Easy.
I've shot many people through restaurant windows before. The bullet flies through the window. Their head drops back. Bloody. Screams. I disappear into the van.
And then I'm transported back.
And do it again the next day.
"Breathe, Lila. You can kill him, Lila. You've got this, Lila." I use my real name because they can't hear me.
I need to ground myself.
I need to associate myself with something.
Anything besides a number.
Number number number
Lila Lila Lila
Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill
The truck seems to tilt. I gasp. But I don't fall over. The door opens, and I go into autopilot.
I step out of the truck, and scale the bricks of a building in the alleyway. A gun is strapped to my vest.
The van drives away.
Once I reach the top of the roof next to the restaurant, I kneel down and watch through the window.
I see Alexandre surrounded by his family. Laughing children. Pregnant women. A gleaming elderly lady. A stern man.
My heart aches in my chest.
I have grown up with the promise of having a real family. Someone to hug me, care for me, love, love love love
Me
Me
Me
I'm too hard to love. Too much trouble. Not normal. If only I was normal, my family wouldn't have had to take me to the asylum.
Why can't I be lovable?
Oh, I just want that.
I want to be a laughing child in this family. A carefree person.
Normal. Not crazy.
I
Don't
Want
To
Be
Crazy
My vision warps.
Instead of seeing a happy family, I see the man torturing the laughing children. Their screams fill my ear.
"Any day now, 102. Don't you see how awful Alexandre Monet is?" Sir's voice rings in my ears. I nod to no one.
I take the gun out of my vest.
I position it over my shoulder, peering through the little window.
Aim.
I'm tackled to the ground.
Someone punches my face. Kicks my stomach.
It's already bruised from a punishment.
I gasp.
But I don't whimper.
I punch my attacker. More hands reach me from behind.
My hands are shackled together.
I'm thrown to the floor of the roof.
I land with a small thud.
I see monsters coming to grab me. My vision turns white.
Angels
Angels
They come down to lift me up.
"It's alright," they tell me, "we won't hurt you," they promise.
I smile at the angels
Laugh
Maybe this is the real family I have been promised.
———
My head pounds.
My eyes feel heavy.
My fingers twitch.
Slowly, I open my eyes. I'm strapped to a chair. My vest and gun are gone. I just wear my black clothes.
I squint, and look around. Dim light shines on me.
I'm in a cement room.
A table is in front of me. Another chair is in front of it.
I've been captured.
Sir always trained us on what to do:
Shut your mouth
Don't tell them anything
Let them beat you, assault you, kill you
But don't tell them anything
He never supplied us with suicide pills. Too many risks, he thought. He thought we might try to kill ourselves before we completed our mission.
That's happened before.
That's why he doesn't do it.
28 said at least 5 assassins killed themselves before Sir took away the suicide pills.
I wish I had a suicide pill right now.
The door opens. My shoulders tense. My eyes train in on the man that enters.
He wears a grey suit. His ebony hair is gelled back into a sleek style. His tan skin glistens. His expression is stern.
But his eyes hold hope.
Hope to get information out of me, most likely.
This man is not Alexandre.
He's his little brother.
Arthur.
I think I might be sick.
Arthur tortures for fun. He's sadistic. Unforgiving. Ruthless.
Of course they sent him down here to interrogate me.
He smiles at me. Takes a seat across the table from me. "You can calm down, sweetie. I'm not going to hurt you. It may be shocking, but I'm not a fan of making children cry."
He chuckles.
I don't.
I keep my expression stern.
Don't show emotion.
"What's your name, sweetie? Or do you not have one?"
I keep my mouth shut.
"Well, how old are you? Hm. Let me guess— maybe... nine?"
I tense.
Tense tense tense
Fear eats away at me. He's playing games with me. Messing with my mind.
"You look just like my mother and grandmother, you know. Spitting image. How about you tell me your backstory?"
Don't
Tell
Him
ANYTHING
I blink in surprise. My voices yelled at me. They've been silent for a long time. They only give me visions.
But now they're back to haunt me.
Arthur seems frustrated. "Sweetie, I can't help you if you don't talk to me. I promise I'm not going to hurt you. My grandmother would skin me alive if I touched a little kid."
I meet his eyes.
Sincere.
Concern.
A tinge of annoyance.
But, most prominently, love.
Love
Love
You're insane
How could he love you?
Freak
I whisper
"Lila"
And his eyes widen in surprise.
A smile breaks out onto his face. "Lila? That's a pretty name. I once had a sister called 'Lila,' but she was kidnapped as a toddler."
I frown.
I don't want to remind him of sad times.
He doesn't frown though. He seems eager. Nearly bouncing with excitement. He isn't frightening anymore.
I almost smile.
But I can't.
That's probably against the rules.
What does it matter, though?
I won't get out of here alive.
Sir definitely thinks I'm as good as dead. He won't try to get me back.
I'm replaceable.
All of the assassins are.
The door opens. Charles steps inside. Charles is a lesser known Monet brother. He is one of the youngest; a hacker.
Little is known about him.
But I frown.
Tense.
Look away.
Charles gasps. "Wow. You were right for once, Arthur."
Right about what?
The fact they caught a crazy kid?
A killer?
A broken?
A lost?
Girl
Girl
Girl
I feel his presence moving closer. I know he's standing in front of me, but my gaze is on my lap.
"Hey, Lila. This is Charles," Arthur says, then sighs, "Oh! I forgot to tell you my name. I'm Arthur." His tone is light. Casual.
I'm still strapped to this chair.
The ties bore into my skin.
I look at them.
They're easy to break out of... but where would I run?
I don't know if I can get out of this warehouse.
Worth a shot.
My ankles twist and slip of out the restraints. Then my arms. Before the two know it, I'm standing and running to them.
I bash one in the head with my elbow.
Punch the other in the eye.
Kick
Punch
Kick
Run
I run so hard
Fast
Flying
Down a long hallway. I pass doors. No stairs. No windows.
The hallway eventually ends.
I reach steel doors, which I open. On the other side, I see a wide empty room. There are many doors.
Where do they lead?
An alarm begins to ring in my ears.
I ran towards the corner. Hide in the shadows. Guards rush around.
"Where is she?"
"Where could a little girl possibly go?"
"Can you believe she punched Mr. Arthur? And she's still alive!"
I hold my breath.
My lungs feel tight.
My vision is becoming fuzzy.
As the wide room clears out, I reveal myself.
I rush towards the ladders leading to the upper level of this room. I scale them. Run to the roof door.
A hand catches my arm as my other hand wraps around the door labeled 'Exit' in bright colors.
I'm so
So
So
Close
To
Freedom
I'm so close to the roof.
The roof is my specialty.
I'm always on the roof.
I spin around.
My hand flies up like lightning. My fist strikes Arthur.
Again.
He doesn't even seem to be upset. He takes my other arm. Stares at me with concern and eagerness.
An odd mix.
"Lila. You have to calm down. I'm not going to harm you." His voice is calm.
Sir always seemed to be calm.
But he wasn't.
Not on the inside, anyway.
Dark thoughts swarmed in his mind.
I scream. Loud. Long.
The warehouse begins to crumble. The floor under my feet cracks open.
The man holding me turns into 28. He smiles at me sadly.
"It's alright, 102. You had a good life, at least," He tells me in a solemn tone.
Then a needle is injected into my neck.
My limbs become shaky.
Someone scoops me up before I hit the floor.
And I black out.