Azalea |18+|

2| The phone call

"And little by little, she found the courage for it all."
~ JH Hard

AZALEA's POV

Life hasn't always been a bed of roses for me, but I've made a life for myself.

At the age of 24, I built a blooming billion-dollar empire while also becoming an infamous and well-renowned assassin, a merciless killer in the illegal world.

I began killing at the age of ten because it was a matter of survival; either me or the person in front of me.

For a ten year old, I didn't shed a single tear after my first kill. The concept of tears had been, ounce by ounce, drained out of me since I was five-years-old, followed by every single emotion I had ever possessed.

I was programmed to be a serial-killer, void of feeling emotions and the 'most dangerous' was the title I had earned for myself.

Fearless, ferocious, dangerous, and an untamed evil bitch who has no compassion for any human being, be it a child, woman, or man, are some of the adjectives that I get associated with.

To be fair, they are not wrong.

I, however, had not killed an innocent on purpose, in fact, I haven't since I left the facility.

Nonetheless, I surely managed to kill a sizable number of people.

I wasn't supposed to feel any emotions, but a sense of guilt somehow crept up on me every time I killed an innocent person, especially a child without hesitation.

I never thought twice before pulling the trigger. I never once hesitated before torturing a person, innocent or not, but compassion and humanity had been beaten out of me since I could remember.

When I was supposed to be playing with barbies, I was holding revolvers and Ak-47's.

When I was supposed to be watching cartoons, I was forced to witness murders and learn about methods of killing and torturing.

When I was supposed to learn my ABC's, I was forced to learn a curriculum designed for college level students.

When I was supposed to be kept protected from the cruelty of life, I was sucked into a vicious web of the most horrendous life that a person, let alone a child could experience.

I finally left that asylum of inhumanity at the age of 15, and I've only ever lived and fended for myself since then.

I was well equipped to live in the world, much better than many adults, I most certainly possessed a post graduate level knowledge by the age of 15.

But the only thing I excelled at was; killing.

That was my sole source of income until I turned 18 and started my own business.

But that doesn't mean I'm not still killing.

Killing has been ingrained into my DNA, drilled into my bones, and it's not something I want to part ways with.

At this point, it just seems impossible and honestly completely pointless.

The body count I alone have till date is probably a lot more than kills by an entire Mafia that I had recently wiped out of existence.

There's a one simple rule which the entire underworld is familiarised with–

Don't fuck up with me.

But the leader of the Sicilian Mafia simply couldn't get that through his thick skull and ugly machismo ego.

Now, he no longer has a head at all.