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I dressed fancily for my next mission, which felt nice, in a weird sort of way. I brought a smaller, but still as powerful, version of my poison gun, which fit in my handbag. Like a pistol but much better. And made by me, which means it would work flawlessly.

The mission was simple. There was a wedding in a park for someone who once used me for his gain. I was not too fond of that. I was not too fond of anything or anyone, for that matter.

The wedding started smoothly. The bride came down the aisle, and the couple started reciting their marriage vows. It was lovely—Tear-jerking to some. Everyone seemed so happy. The priest declared them man and wife. The guests began cheering. That's when I struck.

My gun worked perfectly like it did every time. Everyone was screaming as the man's face melted onto the floor. That's my type of beautiful. Though never tear-jerking. I don't cry. I used my abilities to get into his mind.

"This is what you get for using me. A death suitable for what you've done. So, goodbye, good sir."

Soon, he was dead. Everyone was panicking and running away. The bride was crying over her lost almost-husband. I loved it so much. It was all so perfect. Like always. Like me.

---

After that, I headed home but was stopped by two men in black suits. They had a red octopus stitched on their suits. They grabbed my arms, ripped my gun away from me, and took me to a waiting van. They threw me in the van as I kicked and screamed. Unfortunately, nothing I did worked. Which is something I didn't like.

Being an expert assassin means many people hate me, but I've never actually been captured before. I have always outsmarted them. Maybe I'm not as smart as I think I am? Or it's just some horrible luck.

All I knew was that I wouldn't say I liked it and will continue to hate it until proven wrong.

---

The van ride to where they were taking me was remarkably uneventful. Nothing happened. The only thing I could do was move objects around with my mind. The people who took me spoke and thought in a different language that I didn't know, which made it extremely hard for me to read their minds. I tried to translate what they were thinking into pictures, but even that didn't work.

I tried escaping, but the metal was too thick for me to manipulate. Plus, it was tough to see because everything was dark. The dark is the only thing I'm afraid of. I would never tell that to anyone, though. They would exploit it and make me suffer.

Once we finally got to the place, I felt mentally exhausted. The people had to practically drag me through the building. My mind was swarming with escape plans. To find anything that might help me. Nothing I came up with worked. But I never stopped trying. A fighter's got to fight.

The people brought me into a room and threw me in. I wasn't expecting anything less than to be put in a prison cell without much thought from my captors. At least I had some peace and quiet.

If only I knew how long it would last.