0 | Livestock

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Cattle. Livestock. That's what humans were on par with. Lingering within the walls that protected them from the monsters outside, sitting still as the predators closed in.

That's what I was taught, anyway.

And that's why I needed to be attentive. I needed to listen. And I was to never, ever act on my own.

"Hold your gun still and fire."

The gun's size was as if it were a titan to a human in my small hands, the target in sight at least half a mile away. But it was no wooden piece placed on a tree or building.

"If he starts moving, making sure to aim in front of where he's facing."

It was a person.

A person that messed with the group that bought me. It wasn't an odd thing in the area I used to lived in. If the family got involved in something shady and couldn't pay money back, they'd use something else. In my family's case, it was their only daughter.

Livestock. Living like one, sold like one. And I paid no mind to it, as I was told.  Fifteen years old, I still paid no mind to it. "If your parents truly loved you, they wouldn't put your family at such a risk." I was told.

I was told a lot of things, and alas, I believed it all.

The gunshot echoed through my ears, followed by the shattering of a window and a thud. "Your aim has become unrivalled by anyone in this... organization." The man that told me to call him "master" stood up straight and put his hand on my head. "Dispose of the gun and follow me."

I nodded obediently in response and placed the gun inside of a house with an open window, walking behind my "master."

I heard a scream from the house of my "target," but my master glared back at me. "Don't react." I nodded once again, my hands clasped together in front of me.

Everyone that would gain sight of the two of us always assumed that the man was my father, although we had no resemblance. But it wasn't in anyone's best interest to stick their nose in.

"Kid, inside."

The man guided me inside of a carriage and I sat behind a few crates, hearing his footsteps walk to the front of the carriage. It shook a bit as he mounted the carriage followed by the whinny of a horse. "Don't let yourself be seen."

As the carriage moved along, I gripped my shirt and brought my knees close to my chest.

After a while, the carriage came to a stop, but I didn't move. I had counted how long it took to get to the destination that I was normally brought to after an assassination, and it hadn't been that long yet.

There was an unfamiliar voice outside of the carriage asking questions in an interrogative tone. "What are you carrying?"

"Just some harvest."

"May I examine them?"

Suddenly, it went silent. I had thought I had simply blanked out, but the crates obscuring me from view were then moved. It was two men—no, one was a grown man, the other was maybe a few years older than me at the time.

"Harvest, huh?"

My master hopped off the carriage, and instead of trying to get me, he immediately ran off.

"Smith, you help the girl." The man said before running after my master. I was unmoving, watching this "Smith" get into the back of the carriage, holding out a gentle hand. "I won't hurt you. You'll be okay."

I stared at his hand. His sky-like eyes were soft, but not in a vulnerable way. I could tell that if I were to try and attack, he was ready.

And yet, I heard my master yell, "Attack!" and I grabbed the closest thing that could be used as a weapon, adrenaline coursing through  my veins as I jumped forward.

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