|Dreams and Nightmares
Author: Rosie Seifuku PM
reality ends when death becomes a nightmare never forgotten... *short stories*Rated: Fiction T - English - Tragedy - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,909 - Reviews: 12 - Favs: 1 - Updated: 09-08-03 - Published: 05-14-03 - id: 1303209
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Hello! If you guys like this, let me know. It has a more complicated plot, but I liked this character description best. If you would like to use her, please ask and I will be more than happy to negotiate. Now, enjoy!
I wish I could remember her. I've been told I look like her—long blonde hair, green eyes, sleek body—but the resemblance ends there. I am constantly reminded of our differences, for she was gentle and kind with everyone. My profession prevents me from being kind. I can't be kind when I kill.
I am an assassin. I kill for money. My work is neat and accurate, my weapon deadly sharp. I never make a mistake. Never. It would cost me everything I have. Every skill I have I learned for her.
I was young when she died. No older than three, or maybe four. But I was old enough to remember why she died. She was killed for being who she was—no, not who, but what. They killed her for being a hybrid, a half-breed. For not being normal in their eyes. They saw nothing past her oval green eyes, flecked with yellow, her pointy ears thick with fur, or her unmaskable tail. They never saw the person—simply the animal.
I was there the night they took her. She locked me in a closet and told me to be still. She wouldn't speak to or acknowledge me at all. I know why now; they would have taken me too.
I heard the chains rattling over her loving hands. The stench of man was unbearable. All I wanted to do was break the door down. My hands burned to wrap around their necks and strangle every drop of blood from between their sinister lips. I wished I could make them feel all the pain they were causing me. All I wanted to do was kill them.
They murdered her. They slashed her throat, then raped her dying body. All I could do was listen to her screams for mercy. But mercy died that night, along with my belief in love…it gave birth to power, death and, above all things, hatred.
They left her body on the floor. By the time I'd picked the lock her blood was pooled around her beautiful body. I lay in her blood, still warm and so red, so thick. It was that night I received my power for revenge.
As I lay there, covered in a thick blanket of her blood, I made one promise to myself: I would avenge her. The death of the most beautiful woman alive would not fade to mere memory. I would find them, hunt them down, kill every last one. I vowed to find the strength to do it, any way I could.
It came to me then. Thunder rumbled over my sanctuary and lightning split the sky in half, sending a single beam of light into my chest. The energy rocked me to the core, filled my veins with power that tingled at my fingertips.
I sat up, drunk with my gift, my miracle. It was my time now. But Yami had the same idea.
Yami. My identical twin sister. No one could tell us apart, no one could separate us. We were the best of friends, Daddy's little girls. But then Yami turned on me. Turned on her. She had become too involved in her new "gift," had no more time to spend with me. She found new friends that she could control, molding them into the "perfection team." Three girls had their lives sucked away; they were simply enraptured by my sister's power and diabolical strength. She knew what she wanted. She knew where to turn.
Yami disappeared that night. She stole away one hour before they came and never returned. I too realized that I couldn't stay. Gently I dressed her wounds. Reverently I buried her body. Longingly I held her things, breathing deeply, trying desperately to hold onto her familiar scent. My hands suddenly brushed cool metal, carefully covered by thick wool.
I unearthed an unusual weapon, an oddly shaped boomerang. And yet, when I pushed the ends together, a hidden handle extended, creating a deadly sharp dagger.
I stuck my mother's weapon in my black cape and crept into the inky darkness. I traveled around the world, learning endless trades, making valuable companions. I finally fell into the care of Alec. His wife forced me to work; Alec taught me to kill. My accuracy and eagerness surprised him, delighted him. I was given my first assignment at 12. I'm 26 now. Do the math.
Yami believes in using her powers to kill. That's not my style—it's too dangerous on the job. I can work more accurately without them. That does not mean, however, that I do not feel them. It burns within me, a never-ending itch of revenge. I have managed to find—and kill—two of the three. But one of them still escapes me, protected by his whore. But believe me, I will find him. When I do, 14 years of my anger put into punishment will make him wish he had died with her.
Now I have a new enemy: my beloved sister, a sinister parasite preying on the weak and powerless. Together with my team, I will destroy her, my flesh and blood. I will destroy my mortal father and his whore later. After all, it's father's fault that my life was shattered. He is the one that escapes me. He is the one who killed her.
I made a promise. You will never be forgotten. Your death will not go unpunished. I love you, Mama.
I am Kira. I am an assassin. I am formed by lightning and nightmares. And I will save my world.
I am made of nightmares never forgotten