VII

The feeling of being watched startled me early the next morning, but just as I was about to bury my knife in the intruder's eye I halted.

"Dragonfly! What the hell?! You scared the creeps at of me!" I snarled: he blushed.

"I was just... um..." He stumbled on his words, searching frantically for an excuse: a little smile tugged at the edges of my lips as I taunted him.

"Stalker much?" His fair cheeks deepened in colour as I continued to harass him.

"I live with you." He grumbled half-heartedly.

"Did you need something?" I asked. He shook his head "no".

"I just came to check up on you. Am I not allowed to?" He scowled, stepping closer. I scooched over, and he sat down next to me: scrutinising my state.

I did not answer his question. Instead, I had lain down again, closing my eyes, but I knew I would not sleep any longer tonight. Dragon's warm hand came to rest on my forehead.

"How are your wounds fairing? Ya've been looking paler! Pale as chalk!" Dragon's hand didn't leave my forehead as he added: "cold as ice." I rolled my eyes. He reached for my shades and took them off. "I thought I told you not to sleep with those!" He was holding my chin, inspecting the lash across my face. "Doesn't look like it's infected." He muttered: more to himself than to me.

"None of them are," I said, yawning slightly as I sat up in bed; he pushed me back, giving me a warning glower. "Besides, I am always as pale as chalk: as cold as ice, am I not? Besides, don't infections cause a fever?"

"I want to see them for myself anyway!" He announced. He's been trying to avoid right out saying it, though I couldn't see why. I gave a disgusted sigh, wincing slightly as I took off the shirt and dropped it to the floor. Dragonfly got up, re-taking the seat at my back.

"Some of them might need stitches," He mumbled. "Should've told Sunshine to do them, idiot!" Dragon left the room for a few moments whilst he rummaged in his backpack; he returned a few minutes later stitching the wounds, he proclaimed needed stitching. I didn't argue. It would've been a waste of breath to do so. He always won arguments and I didn't even care so long as he wasn't mad with me: so long as he stayed.

Dragonfly re-bandaged the wounds, including the one on my face. He handed me warm tea and I sipped at it. he proceeded to give me a warm smile as he laid down next to me: hands clasped behind the back of his head.

"You're up to something," I told him, eyeing him wearily.

"You need rest." He shrugged. I gawked at him then at the tea.

"You didn't!" My vision dimmed around the edges and I was starting to panic as I fought against the sleep serum. He gave me an apologetic smile as he took my hand in his.

"Don't panic. You need rest and your sleep has been fitful lately. It will wear off in exactly 8 hours and I will be here, brother. I swear to you that I will not leave your side until you personally get up and kick me out. So, breathe and just relax." I tried to snap back a retort, but the serum was taking effect quickly and within a few minutes, I was lost to the darkness and void.

====

Blood. It was everywhere. On the floor, the walls, me. Infused with the air molecules themselves, I feared that it would never wash off: that I would never be clean again. The stench of it clung to me and refused to leave. It was nauseating, and I had to stifle the urge to vomit from it all. I forced nausea down and continued through the desolate hallways.

I don't want to do it anymore. But what choice did I have?

I walked on: the moonlight shimmering and reflecting beautifully through the intricate designs on the walls. The huge windows were bare and yet the view outside must've been outstanding, but I couldn't – can't – remember it. All I could feel was the blood on my hands. That was all I could smell. The screams of the people were all I could hear, even when no one was screaming. The begging and cries remained even when all was silent: all was inanimate and yet it played on and on in my head. I had feared I'd gone insane. I hadn't. At least, I didn't think I did.

I reached the end of the hallway as the voices grew louder, nearer. It vibrated through the walls and the silhouettes. It was frantic, afraid, and desperate. It was ordering something to remain quiet. Something was crying. A baby? Couldn't be. I wasn't informed of such.

There is no baby.

Perhaps, it's an animal.

Aren't we all?

I had stopped before the huge set of doors entwined with beautiful blues. It was the main "castle" in the second district. The voice joined something as they wept. It was telling the thing crying that everything will be okay.

It won't.

I drew in a deep breath and kicked the door open. The impact of the action unbalanced me momentarily, though I regained my posture shortly thereafter. For a minute, I didn't see anything, but as I scanned the master bedroom I noticed a woman crouched low, huddled in the corner as she wept. She was holding something to her chest.

A babe? Maybe. I wasn't informed of such. How could it be?

The room was dark, though it didn't matter to me, the moon provided all the light I could possibly need. The woman noticed me and stopped crying, sniffed and actually smiled. I was aghast.

Was she insane? Didn't she know who I was? What I was?

She approached me and patted my head, I hissed in warning. She frowned.

"Who are you, little one?" The sincere concern in her voice caught me off guard.

Was she blind? Stupid?

Her gaze drifted to my battered form and she frowned even more as she lay her baby aside and tried to see my wounds. I drew away with another hiss.

"You're hurt! You shouldn't be out here! You can get killed. My husba-" She broke off into sobs. The kind of sobs that racked the entire body: the ones that are from the very depths of one's soul. I knew the pain. I felt it. I live with it. Pain is my friend and I had long made peace with all its friends as well.

I should just finish it off. I should and yet...

She wiped at her eyes and fought to regain her composure. She closed the doors and took a shaky breath as she reached for me again. I hissed and danced away from her.

"Sh. I won't hurt you. Are you alone? Do you know where your parents are?"

Hopefully, at the deepest pits of Tartarus!

Demons had no parents and neither did I. I shook my head more to clear it, but she took it as an answer to her question and hugged me close. Her hair brushed against my cheeks.

"Don't worry. We'll find them, little one. All will be right."

How I wish that was true.

I pushed her away, gently so. I didn't know why I bothered, considering what I was there to do. She placed a kiss to each of my cheeks and smiled affectionately.

"Oh, dear one. I'm so sorry that something as beautiful as you had to see the ugly out there," I was perplexed.

Dear one? Beautiful? Why was she calling me so, when she hadn't known me? Hadn't known what I was capable of. Hadn't known what I was.

She is insane. Or stupid.

Even I had never been that naïve, not even back then. I knew things for what they were. There was no "sugar-coating" things, they just were. Life didn't have to be nice, fair and it didn't have to make sense, it just was. One either accepted it or died. For me, it was hell, either way, might as well stick with the one I was familiar with: stay with the people I know.

"What's your name?" I didn't answer. I didn't speak: her brows furrowed together. I saw her scan me from top to bottom, again, more intently that time and she blanched.

"Oh, dear lord! You're one of them!" She rushed away from me and held her babe in her arms cradling it close.

So, she had finally come to her senses. Took her long enough.

I took the knife from where I'd hidden it in my boots and stepped one step towards her; she took three back. I stopped and stared at her.

"It can't be true! You're only a child!"

Too bad, no one thinks about that when they abandon us to the sick bastards.

I adjusted my hold on my knife and the woman dropped to her knees.

Yeah, this is the part when they beg for their lives and offer all to live.

"Please, please, don't kill my baby!" Aghast I stared at her.

"The babe?" I finally spoke, my voice sounding hollow even to my own ears. I shivered in revulsion. It was why I seldom spoke. I was already dead, and I knew it. Only twelve and I was already dead. I had been for two years.

"Yes! Please. Do whatever you want with me, just don't hurt my baby! Please! She's innocent!"

So was I! So were all of us! And yet you abandoned us! You left us to save you!

I wanted to scream at her for the injustice!

What would it matter? If I killed her I would be sparing the pitiful thing a life of misery!

What if you didn't kill her? But I had to kill the woman. It was my assignment. If I was to fail...

The woman took a blaster and held it in her hand: her baby cradled against her breasts.

"I know you don't have a choice. I know you must kill me. But my baby... My baby can live. You can take care of my baby! Please, she's only 2 days old! She can't die, not yet! Please, take care of her. Please."

She has yet to ask me to spare her.

She came closer and pushed the babe in my arms and as I looked down to the tiny thing, I knew I had lost the battle. I had failed. The babe was staring at me with its angelic green eyes – No – her angelic eyes. They were so big, they swallowed all her tiny face. She had a soft patch of auburn hair, like her mother's. She was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and I lost to her.

"It wasn't in my orders to kill this one," I said, though I didn't know whom I was convincing. Me or the woman?

"Good. But I would have to die, won't I?" I adjusted my hold on my dagger again.

Strike! I ordered myself, yet I didn't. Kill her. She's your assignment!

But the baby... I stared at the woman who was frowning back at me.

Kill her! You already killed everyone else. What's one more person? A part of me argued. It was the same part of me that I had allowed to rule me for the two years before. It was the same part of me I had despised: the cold, sterile part that would do whatever it has to do. It was the part of me that could kill without discrimination: kill without remorse.

What if that person was a mother who cared about her baby? A real mother.

At that moment, jealousy took hold of me, fast and ferocious. I craved to kill the two of them for sharing something I never knew.

Why couldn't you have been my mother? But what would it had mattered? They would've killed her.

Was my mother like you? Did she die protecting me? It was something that had never crossed my mind. Did my father die like that too? Did they care about me?

"Promise me, boy." I looked up at her and a single tear slipped down my cheek. Before I knew what she was doing, she removed my shades and I closed my eyes immediately, but it was too late; she had seen them. I was deformed. What came next was something I had never expected, and it shattered my resolve. It defeated me. She kissed my cheeks.

"You have beautiful eyes. Can you open them, son?"

Son.

No one had ever called me that. Ever. She kissed my cheek again and I hesitated.

"The world is cruel." She said. "But sometimes it takes courage to be nice. Sometimes, it takes courage to do what is right." Another tear escaped. She tenderly brushed it away.

I am not weak. I don't cry. Don't cry, damn it! Don't you dare cry, you pathetic fool!

"Sometimes it takes courage to let people in your heart, especially after betrayals. I know what I am asking of you is unfair, especially after we had abandoned you," I opened my eyes. No one had ever admitted to being wrong. "But prove to them that they were wrong, we were wrong. You aren't monsters. The League is our only real enemy." That did me in and I locked gazes with her, admitting to the one truth I had never, ever told a soul before or after.

"I hate killing. I hate blood. I don't wanna do it." She held me close and rocked us back and forth.

"I know. But you must kill me." I took her hand and dragged her to the door. The babe still cradled to my chest.

She is so tiny.

"I came alone, but they might be watching." I scanned the hallway and looked back at her. "We might still be able to get you out of here. We just have to play it right."

"No. They will know. The cameras –"

"Are disabled. I did it myself. I know they are." She shook her head and my gut clenched. "What are you going to do?"

"Run, boy, but first promise. Promise me you'll take care of my girl." My throat tightened, and grief choked me.

"She's my sister. I always take care of my sisters." She kissed my forehead and pushed me to the door.

"Go on. Get out of here."

"But,"

"Please."

I did. I left, and I never looked back.

Wonder what I should call the little thing...

When I was about halfway through the hallways in which I came I heard it. One shot: it echoed dreadfully through the rest of the palace. The babe cried in alarm and I jerked awake from my dream, panting.

"Woah! You alright?" Dragon was all but on top of me, trying to call me down. "Dude! Relax. It's just me." He held me close, a hand at the back of my head and another rubbing soothingly, carefully at my back. "It's okay." He whispered. "It's okay, I've got you." He cradled me closer, like an infant. "It was just a bad dream, little brother." He said. "It was just a bad dream. I won't let them hurt you I swear." My frantic breathing was starting to even out, as I rested my forehead against his shoulders. "It was just a bad dream." He said again: more lilting. I was still shaking badly, I felt him looking around before he started singing a lullaby I knew too well.

[Verse 1]

In the cold, dead night

I will hold you tight

I will never stray

Will forever stay

[Verse 2]

In the grey, old field

I will be your shield

So never fear

My precious dear

My breathing evened out and he broke off the lullaby midway to stare down at me, with worry creasing his brow.

"Feeling better?" He asked wearily. I nodded, and he sat back on his heels, staring at me for the longest time. "By the way," I looked up at him. "Darling wants to talk to you... when you're ready."