Give and Take (poly) (bxb)

Seven's Take

"They ordered a hit— they didn't tell us why. We just did it!"

My fist hits him so hard, two of the bruises on his face burst open. Red ruptured skin and puffy veins.

"I don't know anything! I swear!"

He's a puppet. He's like me. I'm wiping the blood from my knuckles onto his already stained shirt. It's coming from his eyes, mouth, and nose.

"I'm not going to ask you again. I'm just going to beat the hell out of you until you can remember." I take three steps back as I speak, bracing my body for impact.

"Wait, wait!" He attempts to move hands that are tied with rope behind him. "They said something about a newbie on your side. Your defenses would be down because you'd be training them."

"How did they know about them?" I already know the answer. Our system is too secure. No one can get in. No one can get out.

"Someone must have leaked the info from your side."

I was trained to bite my own tongue off and choke on it. Maybe he's trained to say this. But he confirms what I already expected and feared to say. They'll hate me if I say it. They'll suspect me all over again. There's a spy.

Three years ago, I wasn't here. I was a little boy without a childhood. Trained to be an assassin since birth.

"You're going to go kill that boy tomorrow," Yoon told me.

I knew exactly who he was talking about. He was older. I was the boy here. I knew it now and would learn it again later. He was skilled. I had studied him for three months straight. My obsession. The way his body moved, how fast his reflexes were. I could even tell where his weak and strong spots were just by the scars that adorned his body and how old they were. New scars are more precious, more protected. But old scars are forgotten. Easy to hurt like they have already been hurt before.

"I know," I told him because I did. I had the advantage here. I studied. I knew exactly how it was going to go. I always did. But knowledge is sickness.

"Don't overdo it," Yoon told me the day of. He was getting ready beside Hye-mi. Smaller than I and even more graceful. Brown hair she cut to her chin so it wouldn't get in the way and a round puppy-like face too innocent for this job. Hye-mi was always the victim in all of this. She would come into my room, thin as her nightgown, to share my thin sheets. She would crawl into my bed the night after successful kills. Or I'd go to her as she'd be screaming for mercy in her sleep. It was always afterwards. After we had already been paid hundreds of thousands of dollars for taking lives away. The nightmares outweighed the money by tenfold.

I don't want to do this anymore. We would say the words back to each other, playing an obnoxious game when in the end, we knew we didn't have a choice. You could escape the gang, you'd be half-dead by the time, but it was at least possible. It was always an option floating in the air above us like dust. But we would never be able to escape the memories. What we did with our hands, what we snatched away. The only way out was suicide.

I've killed enough people to know how to make it quick, to know how to make it painless. Though I deserve all of the pain. I deserve to bleed out, to hang from my neck, to struggle for air and life. I deserve the worst kind of death.

Yoon pulled Hye-mi's mask up for her, while I checked all of our weapons. She told me when I check them this time to help her, to make it look like an accident. Yoon would kill me unless I killed him first. We rarely ever took these many people on an assignment. It would never be this easy again.

These bullets are known to explode on impact. If it's jammed, if it impacts another bullet, it will explode in hand. After the second shot. I have to make Yoon get to the second shot.