2024 Story Collection

Killer Turned Bodyguard

!Warning! Talk of murder, suicide and death.

She doesn't ask why they call on her. She knew that whatever reasons they had, they were lies. No one hires a killer unless their motives are nefarious.

In her line of work, she was known as the monster that bleeds black. She didn't actually have black blood, but people believed only a monster could do what she does and maybe she was a monster.

She had been hired by politicians, mafia, gangs, cartels and worse. You name it, she's killed them or killed for them. She had no boundaries, morals or lines to draw in the sand. She did not care who she killed, for what purpose, or for who. She couldn't care, because she had someone to protect, someone to provide for.

"Lucy," Dean called. "The movie's about to start."

She looks at her face in the mirror. The bags under her eyes were worse than ever. Her hair was a mess, and she still had a bit of the dried child's blood on her neck.

She puts on a fake smile. "I'll be out in a minute. I'm almost done." Her face falls as soon as the words leave her mouth. She turns on the water and splashes her face and wiping the blood away. She grabs her brush and runs it through her hair, ignoring the split ends she's no doubt making worse. She rinses out her mouth and looks back into the mirror.

Her skin was still far too pale from the long nights and insomnia. She pinches her cheeks and puts on some chapstick. Good enough. She puts a soft smile on her face, leaving the horrors playing through her mind behind in the small bathroom. She opens the door and joins him in the living room.

"There you are," he says. "I was worried you'd never come."

She runs a hand through his hair roughly. "Like I'd miss watching Ironman with my little bro."

"It's Captain America today, actually." She raises a brow at his words. He shrugs.

"Branching out, I see. Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" They laugh.

She hops onto the couch beside him and steals a few handfuls of popcorn. He complains, and she laughs.

"If you were a marvel hero, who would you be?" He asks suddenly.

She knows it's a simple question. She could answer it with something like the hulk, but instead, for once, she decides to be honest.

"I wouldn't be a hero," she runs a hand though his soft hair. The same hand that gripped the head of the child she'd beheaded that morning. She blinks and continues, pulling her shaking hand back. "I would be like Deadpool, but not as funny."

"But he kills people," he says.

"I've always related to the villains more." She stands up. "Lets get some dinner."

"Lucy," she turns to face him.

"Yes," she looks at him and suddenly realizes that none of this is real.

The apartment burned, her brother gone.

"Ah," she says. "I did it again."

She stands there for a moment, taking in the space that used to be home. Suddenly it's overwhelming. She can feel the smoke filling her lungs choking her.

She hops out the broken window onto the fire escape, finally able to breathe again.

"He died two years ago," she lectures herself. "And where were you when it happened? When he was burning alive? You were killing a man, taking a knife to a mans throat instead of being home with your brother."