The population is currently 1,558.
It’s supposed to be 1,555. Game, I hate my job. I wish I wasn’t the one born with the crimson hair although it is beautiful. But it defeats the purpose since everyone is afraid of it anyway. And everything else about me, besides my eyes which are the brightest blue, is average. Average body, average facial features. Average, average, average.
It’s obvious that I’m bitter about this. I have a right to be, I just want to be liked, not feared. I’m only sixteen and I’ve been killing since I could walk and hold a knife. I have never done anything normal girls do, I have never giggled about boys, I have never been a blushing mess, I have never even laughed with someone.
1,557, someone just took care of themselves. Nevertheless, I still have to kill two people. I already know who, I saw a few people slacking off and although most of them were old, they have to know that laziness isn’t tolerated.
With a sigh, I conceal my dagger in my sleeve. I had named it Mercy for when stabbed, it injects a poison that kills them immediately. I hate making them suffer, it gives me so much pain to see them in pain.
I whistle a soft tune from under the hood of my cloak. The tune is eerie and the temperature seems to drop by several degrees. People around me stiffen and go into their houses without it seeming obvious. Luckily, the first guy isn’t too far and does seem to hear me. I walk up behind him and stand over him. He turns around to smile and greet me but the second he lays eyes on me, he freezes. I can tell that he’s terrified and I feel a little guilty that I have to do this.
I made sure it was quick, the blade in, poison ejected, and blade out. He falls to the ground and after I cover his face with a white cloth I move on. My other victim isn’t that far either, just around the corner.
Turning around the building, I see him with a pan raised. His eyes are furious and he swings it but I’m too fast. I grab his wrist and twist his arm behind his back. He sucks air in through his teeth and I put my mouth to his ear.
“You think you can best me?” I whisper to him. “You’re not the first to try and you sure as bait won’t be the last.” And quickly my dagger is in my hand and I get ready to strike him but I stop because I don’t need to kill him.
1,555, someone just drowned.
I drop his arm and conceal my dagger again as fast as I had taken it out. He seems breathless and confused. I hand him back his pan and he just stares at me like I’ll change my mind and murder him without a second thought.
“You were spared, someone just drowned. And my advice to you, don’t be lazy, Fisher, if you don’t want to die.”
He slowly grins and I’m stunned. Why is he smiling? I am unnerved by it but I find myself hesitantly smiling back. He doesn’t seem to like that though and his expression turns to glare within only a millisecond.
“I wanted you to try and kill me, Killer. People like you shouldn’t be allowed to live. But it’s clear I should have trained harder.”
This wasn’t anything new. Many people have tried and they all have failed. Sure it hurt, but I was used to it. I was so, so used to it.
I just give him a tight smile and bid him goodbye. He seems troubled by my lack of reaction. Or maybe he saw something in my eyes. I hope he didn’t, I don’t need anyone knowing.
Pulling my hood back over my head, I walk away. I can feel his eyes boring into me and I turn around and look at him, really look at him. He has dark side-swept hair and piercing green eyes. He is tall and has the grace of a seaman but the cold eyes of a butcher.
He seems to study me too like he’s seeing me for the first time. And then he opens his mouth and asks a question that is way too personal and intimate.
“Do you not like your job?”
I stiffen and my eyes harden. “It’s not a matter of enjoyment. It’s something I have to do. And now I bid you goodbye.”
I turn on my heels and leave as quickly as I came. I had to get away from him. He was insane. My fingers fidget with the edge of my cloak and I leave the circle of houses and go into the cover of the trees. I had to be cut off and away from everyone, it was part of my job. A part I despised, but I understood it and followed it nevertheless. I had no parents, I was taken from them before I could remember and I have no siblings that I know of.
Sure, it was hard always being alone. I wished I had someone but this is all I’ve known. The smokey scents of burning leaves, the sounds of nature, and the total isolation. Well, maybe not quite isolation. People talk to me, but it’s more usually like ‘don’t take my kids! Take me!’ or ‘I’m too young to die’. Yeah, but rules are rules.
I spin my blade in my hand very fast, but I’m faster so it doesn’t cut me. I was always fascinated by my enhanced senses and speed. I also had a sixth sense, where I could tell what the population number was, who died, and who had just been born. Keeping the population up was easy, despite them knowing that I could possibly murder their kid. Everyone loved kids, and it was an extra set of hands. However, people seem to want the number of people in the Wilderness city to be high so I have to work pretty hard.
Life here isn’t too bad but I’ve always wondered what the other cities are like. Like the Articulture city. How do they build everything? They’re the only ones who have seen all the other cities because they have to build houses for them. The Art city makes all the books, movies, paintings, and other decorative things. I guess it’s a pretty useless city besides giving people entertainment. The Mother city prepares all the food, takes care of the sick, heals the injured, and lays the dead down to rest. Their name is pretty fitting. The Wilerness city mostly does the hunting and gathering, sending the other cities their supplies.
Then you have the Criminal city. I’m not really sure why that city exists, everything about it is mostly confidential. It has me wondering, who is in there they, the Capital people, don’t want us to know about? I’ve seen people dragged out of our city to be placed there and it had me curious why they don’t just kill them.
I sigh and open the door to my little cottage home. It wasn’t much but it’s cozy. There are plants on every surface and some even hanging from the ceiling. How ironic, Killer loves to take care of plants. The person who kills loves to create.
I water every single one and then settle down on the couch. I have a TV but I never watch it, there is never anything interesting. Instead, I grab my book from the coffee table in front of me and start reading where I left off.
