Killers.

I ran my hand along his thick, white fur, carefully steering my hand around the stains of red. He gave a groan, that I assumed he meant to be a roar.1

"There, there," I said, reaching into my pocket and pulling out a thin stick of dried meat. "It'll all be over soon." I dropped the stick in through the bars. It landed on the cold metal with a light FLUMP and slowly Mard leaned down and took it in his mouth.2

Mard had been my best friend when I was little - my only companion in the cold darkness we call Civilization. My mother had brought him back for me when he was just a cub, after one of her "Trips", as she called them. My sister and I both knew what they were, but she, at least, acted like she didn't. My mother was an assassin, trained to kill the "Evils" of our world. She died when I was 13. Killed by a squad of hitmen, who shot her 17 times in the chest. On my sister's birthday. Callista, who was 11 at the time, ended up following in my mother's footsteps, "doing right", just as she would have wanted us to. I chose a different path. After my father was killed (to prevent any knowledge he may have known from leaving his brain), I had to raise my sister by myself. Mard, Callie and I moved into an abandoned barn. We would occasionally dig through the fallen mass that had once been a farmhouse, looking for clothes, or tables, or cans of food that survived.3

We didn't find much.4

When my sister turned 13, she took up my mother's job, her first "achievement" being a millionaire named Robert Clanst, who had originally been in charge of the organization that killed my mother. The organization had, ages before, broken up and turned into separate killers, each doing what they did for the money, and murdering anyone who crossed their path. She, with the help of some of my mum's old "friends", hunted down and killed every last one of these men. She's been working like this ever since.5

I was fifteen when she left. She was taken in by my mother's childhood friend, Samuel Oaken, who taught her the ways of the assassin and told her stories. I suppose it was more important to have a warm bed, clean clothes, and healthy meals than to stay with her sister.6

I still love Callie, and I know she still loves me, but things have changed since I, as a thin, dark-haired, 15-year-old girl, shouted my last words at the fair-haired, rosy-cheeked 13-year-old, whose eyes then still sparkled with childish enjoyment. I knew that sparkle was gone now. I know, because I once had a sparkle. I know what sends it away, and I know that it will never come back.7

I am now 17 years old. I have no house, no acquaintances, and no family. All I have is my Plan, and that is all that is worth having.8

I am going to find Callie.9

I am going to take my hands in hers and let tears run down my cheeks. Then she will say "Alyssia, it is so good to see you again!" and I will look at her and her brow will crease and she will say "What is the matter?" and when I don't respond she will cry "Alyssia! Tell me what's wrong!" and I will look deep into her round, blue eyes, and I will look very hard for the sparkle, and she will look into my almond-shaped, blue eyes, and she will look for my soul. And very softly, I will say "You do not know what you are looking for," and she will look very questioning and then I will dive my dagger into her stomach. 10

I know this will not kill her.11

That is what I want.12

I will bring her back with me, and I will chain her to the inside of Mard's cage. Mard has not eaten properly in a very long time, just as I haven't. He will smell her warm, sweet blood and he will do everything in his power to resist. And then I will take a video of her screaming and wailing and I will put it in a yellow envelope, and I will make sure I put on the right address and I will send it to Samuel Oaken. And once he gets it I am sure he will come running down to save Callie. When he gets here, I will grab him and I will chain him up and I will kill him. Right where I know Callie can see him. It does not matter how I kill him, all that matters is that it hurts.13

Once he is dead, I will unchain Callie and I will put her in a glass box and I will listen to her muffled screams as I feed Samuel Oaken's body to Mard. After Mard has eaten, I will take Callie in her box (that has a single hole at the top for air) and I will use her keys to break into her house, and I will get the phone numbers of everyone she cares about, everyone who's close to her and I will use it to track them down and kill them. 14

I will then drain them of their blood and fill a swimming pool with it, and then I will put the box containing Callie into the swimming pool and she will drown in the blood of her friends. I will let Mard eat all the bodies, before I end his life with the last of the cyanide I was given as a child from a stranger in the park. I do not worry that this stranger was trying to hurt me - he told me, in his withered, hoarse voice, that he knew how my life would turn out, and that it was best for me to keep this on my person, and never to break the vial or taste it or test it on anyone I care about. Once Mard is dead, I will burn down the stained, crippled mess I have worked on most of my Plot in, and I will move on with my life, becoming an assassin, just like my mother and sister.15

I am going to kill people, for money, live a happy life, and be the person my mother and sister would have killed.16

I'll be the killer, and I won't hurt inside.17

I'll do what I do because I can.18

Ready or not, here I come.