Two

Anna

A figure sat on the couch across from me, elegant and composed. She was dressed impeccably, like she had just stepped out of a magazine, every detail in place. The sharp lines of her suit, the way her necklace caught the faint light, shimmering against her throat. Her gaze was hard and piercing, and it felt as though she was peeling back layers of me, seeing everything I’d tried so hard to hide.

I looked down, feeling the weight of her stare, and noticed the bandages wrapped carefully around my feet. The cuts from last night had been cleaned, the blood washed away as if it had never been there. I sighed disappointedly. Part of me almost wished the pain was still there, raw and real, something I could hold onto.

“What were you thinking?” Her voice snapped through the air, filled with anger. “ I thought we agreed that you will stop hurting yourself like that?”

"Come on, Relax Anita. It's not as if I'll die or something" I shrugged.

"But that would have happened if I didn't get home earlier" She cried.

Phew! She is such a cry baby. I can't help it. This is the only way I can easily relief my accumulated pain.

Ignoring her, I reached for the water bottle on the bedside table. My hands trembled as I twisted off the cap, but I didn’t hesitate. I brought it to my lips and drank deeply, letting the cold water wash away the dryness in my throat.

"I just watched the news about Mr Kelvin's death. You killed him right?." Her voice came again, making me pause. "Come on Anna. How long will you keep killing people and hurting yourself?"

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief. "What?" The word slipped out in a hoarse whisper, barely audible.

After my family's death, I was invisible. The streets were my home. I begged for scraps, avoided fights, and slept with one eye open, praying I’d see another dawn. It was during one of those desperate days that I met Anita. She wasn’t like the others who hurried past, disgusted by my filthy clothes and hollow eyes. She stopped. She looked. And she saw me.

“Come with me,” she said. I didn’t ask why. I had nowhere else to go.

Anita was unlike anyone I’d ever known. Beautiful but deadly, kind but fierce. It wasn’t long before I learned her secret. She was an assassin, and a damn good one. Under her guidance, I transformed from a pitiful street rat into something much darker. She taught me to fight, to survive and most importantly, to kill. She molded me and gave me a reason to live.

But that was years ago. Anita left that life behind, trading her blades for peace and love. She married Frederick Tyson, another retired assassin. They built a happy life together, living the kind of peaceful life I wouldn't even dream of. Anita treated me like a sister and loved me like one but I couldn't reciprocate, i wasn’t the same girl she had saved. My heart had hardened, and my soul was too consumed by revenge to play the role of the doting sibling she desires.

“Look Anna, you need to stop this...this revenge madness,” she said softly, her eyes searching mine for some trace of the girl she once knew.

I rolled my eyes irritatedly, crossing my arms. “Are we seriously still having this conversation?”

“Yes, because it’s not just going to go away!” she snapped, her calm demeanor cracking. “When do you plan to stop killing people?”

“People?” I repeated, my voice sharp with disbelief. “I’m not just killing people, Anita. I’m killing monsters. The ones who destroyed my family!” My voice rose, trembling with emotion. “They didn’t just take my parents. They tore my life apart. And now, I’m taking everything from them. Their power, their wealth, their lives.”

Her shoulders sagged, and she took a hesitant step closer. “But at what cost, Anna? How long will you let this consume you? You have your own life to live. Your own future.”

“Future?” I laughed bitterly. “I don’t have a future, Anita. My future ended the day they killed my family. Now, all I have is revenge. It's the only thing keeping me breathing. If I give that up, I have nothing.”

“Don’t say that,” she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. She reached out, her hands trembling. “You’re more than this. Please, just stop. Let go of this anger before it destroys you.”

I yanked my hand away as if burned. “No,” I hissed. “I’m not stopping until every last one of them is wiped off the face of this earth. And I'll appreciate it if you don't try to stop me”

She sighed running her hand through her hair. "You're so stubborn. I just hope you meet someone who can finally talk some sense into that thick skull of yours"

I smirked but it didn't reach my eyes. “Good luck with that”

Anita shook her head and walked out of the room.The moment the door clicked shut, i locked it and moved to the far end of the large room. I pulled back the heavy curtain to reveal a hidden door disguised as part of the wall. I leaned into the biometric scanner embedded above the frame. The device beeped and the door slid open with a quiet hiss.

The walls of the room were plastered with photographs, names, notes and details of my enemies. I ran my fingers over the pictures, my chest tightening with the familiar cocktail of anger and revenge.

I reached out for my pocket and retrieved a small piece of cloth tattered and worn out with age. It was the last gift from my father, a list scrawled in his handwriting. Five names, five monsters responsible for my family’s murder. At the top of the list was Mr. Philip Thompson.

I stepped closer to the wall, my fingers tracing the grainy photographs of him. His arrogant smile stared back at me, fueling the fire in my chest. Over the past year, I had stalked him, uncovered his secrets, and learned every detail about his life. His company, his mansion, his schedule. I knew it all.

 I pulled out a lighter and ignited one of his photos. The flames licked at the edges, curling the paper as it turned to ash.

“Get ready, Mr. Philip,” I whispered, my voi

ce a low growl. “Your time is up.”I let out a loud laugh.