Diary of an undying assassin

[Sir Walnut]

Forever. Why does everything come done to forever? We’ll be together forever. Best friends forever. Love you forever. How can anything be measured by an unending measurement? Forever is so long. Mortals never seem to grasp this. I’ve lived for a hundreds of years. I’ve seen the rise and fall of powerful nations. I’ve fathered numerous children. I’ve spilt more blood than anyone could imagine. I’ve felt more pain then anyone should ever experience. Forever is to long a time for anything to exist. Even the immortal becomes bored and contrite as the years pile on. This is not a tale of happily ever after. Few truly are. All I really want is to finally find the end. Any ever after will do.

 

I go to the fridge. Look inside, find leftover Chinese, and a single beer. I think. I can’t even find the desire to drown away sorrow. Alcohol doesn’t drown it long enough. Everyday I wake with the same loathing of the sunrise. I’ve tried suicide. I doesn’t work. It just causes more pain and suffering. To really find peace you have to end the suffering. I grab my cigarettes. Empty. Just like my life. I head outside. Down the street. Sirens ring out in the night. More crime. Cold rain hits my face. The sound of it bounces off every building. I reach the corner store. I walk up to the counter. The same gentleman is here every night. Jerry was a good man. Worked two jobs to make sure his little girl got into a good school. As I was paying for my cigarettes the door opened.

 

“The money in the register give it to me! Now!”

 

The boy was waving a revolver in the air, wearing a ski mask. Great just what Jerry needed. A robbery. Jerry slowly handed the money over just a handful of bills, couldn’t have been more than fifty bucks in the register. The boy grabbed it. And fired a single shot. Jerry collapsed. Now, you need to know something about me. Although I want nothing more then to finally find my eternal resting place I look down on wasted life. Jerry had done what the boy wanted. There was no point in killing the guy. He turned the gun on me. My hand moved. The robber screamed. My grip on his hand caused him to drop the gun. His fingers had jutted out at weird angles. Blood was starting to drip out of my gloved hand. The contempt I felt for someone with no grasp of the worth of human life was unbearable.

 

“There is no room on this planet for any more people who kill needlessly.”

 

“You broke my @#$%ing hand! @#%$ Off psycho!”

 

“You don’t understand the favor I’m about to do for you”

 

As he started to form words my free hand grabbed his throat. I gripped as hard as I could. These hands have bent steel and can crush bone. I saw the life leave his face. I released my grip. I grabbed my cigarettes. The rain had gotten worse. People who didn’t deserve to had died, but not me, never me. Now I need that drink.

[Kikuyu_Black_Paws]

Dark and slightly sardonic. The use of imagery and first person worked well, in this, Sir Walnut. Just a few typos, but then those are as sneaky as soot sprites.

 

I certainly hope there will be more additions to the undying assassin's journal (?)

[Sir Walnut]

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. That is one of the many truths of the world, inherent in all life. Nothing lives forever, or withstands the tests of time. Eventually you break no matter how far you can bend. These truths are self evident in the world. But, if you were to look at the world through my eyes, beyond the shades of black and white and into the realms of color then you would understand that the world is not alone. Along our world their lies another, on the other side of the mirror, waiting for its chance to slip right through. It is home to the things that go bump in the night. Home to the great heroes and villains. Many great legends have been born of this, from Pandora's box to Atlantis. In this world of legend these rules do not apply. All things exist, future, past, and present, together. My father had seen this mirror world, this world of monsters and myth. He had crossed over when that world had slip into ours, upon the full moon, as had the new legends. And while their he stole some of the clay of creation, for in this world beings were sculpted into life, allowing them to live until destroyed. But, just as each creation held a weakness inherent in its being in the mirror world, his creations were not whole. They lacked a soul. They were simply shells waiting for orders.

My father, driven to insanity by his failure to create life, did the unthinkable. He returned to the other side of the mirror, and bound an elemental to the form he had crafted of the clay. When he returned to this world he commanded me, born of clay and stolen soul, to live. As soon as these words had escaped his lips, his eyes dimmed, for he had finally returned to the dust from which he came. I stood next to him, not understanding the command I had been given. So I did as my sisters did, those he had created before me, and took care of the home he had built in a wooded area far from civilization. Eventually my sisters stopped working. Time had taken its toll on the home, and even with the best care the home couldn't last as long as we could work. The building rotted into disrepair. My sisters all stood still. I could here the words still echoing in my head. Live. He told me to live, yet what was that. I must find out what he wanted.

So I left my sisters standing in a grove, and walked. I did not have a concept of time so I cannot even estimate for how long but I walked. Eventually, I came upon a small town. It's name is of no consequence, and the population even more so. They did not have the answers I sought. I continued out of the town, and walked more. Many vehicles stopped and their owners asked me if I would like a ride. At the time I did not understand so I simply kept walking. I arrived in a larger settlement and came across some furred animals. One was yellow and the other black. As I walked, they followed. As I wandered the convoluted streets they followed closer, meowing every now and then. At one point I stopped, the sun setting, and reveled in the sight I had never truly seen. It's light glinted off of the many tall buildings sending rays cascading in every direction. It was beautiful. My peace was disturbed as a man's voice shouting. I turned to see a man at a stand yelling at my animal companions. I saw them eyeing the items he had. It was a brown tube on another tube of tan and white. I walked over took the tube and gave it to the animals.

"Hey! What are ya doin'! You gotta pay fer that!", The cart's owner shouted hand held out. His odor was quite bad, stinking of day old sweat.

"I am sorry. I do not understand what you mean." I responded while cocking my head to the side in a look my father had referred to as "quizzical".

"What are ya? A foreigner? Get outta here and take the damn cats with ya!" The man continued to yell flicking his wrist at me in a gesture I now know is "go away".

I grabbed the damn cats and the tube they had started to eat. It slipped from my hands and rolled into the middle of the road. The damn cats leaped from my arms and chased after it. I followed, not understanding the desire to protect my pets. As I stepped in to the road I was suddenly struck from behind. I stretched out my arms to prevent myself from landing on the damn cats. I stood up to see a man in a long coat and glasses, a smoking stick held loosely between his lips, the slight breeze whipping his blonde hair the tiniest amount. He walked around me, a confused look upon his face. Then he looked at the vehicle that had struck me, it's pieces littering the street and the owner sprawled across the now wet and red pavement

(Sorry about the wait. Really didn't know where this was gonna come from and here it is.)

[Sir Walnut]

All around me are faces that seem to blend with the thousands I've seen in my long life. The buildings seem worn, as though time itself was trying to tear them down. I take a long drag on my cigarette, filling my lungs. It's nearing dusk, and a depressing sun sets on another day passed. The sky is tinged red, the sun calling for blood before he rests. Hope walks down the street, entertaining an old man with her swaying hips. He is so entranced he can see the look the disgust hidden deep within her dolled up face. She'll soon come over and ask for a cigarette, because their is always the hope I'll give her one. I hear a shout to my left, at the top of the street. I gaze up and see a young blond girl charge into the street, a car careening into her before she can make it two steps towards what looks like cats. The driver is flung from his car, the concrete breaking his bones and twisting his flesh into a bloody pulp. A tad odd. The driver should still be seated, racing away from his guilt. My curiosity gets the best of me so I let it drag me over.

As I get closer, to my surprise, the girl is fine. She stands and stares straight at me, unblinking. I step around her, look from her to the destroyed car then to the pulp that had driven it. I can tell just by looking at her she isn't normal, forget the fact she was just hit by a car doing at least fifty miles an hour. Moss has started to grow on her tattered dress under the arm and on the back of her neck. She didn't even go ten feet from the impact point. It simply knocked her over. The most interesting feature of this accident is after being hit by a careening vehicle she was still focused enough to catch herself. I'm intrigued

 

She cocks her head like a confused dog.

 

"Hey, you look a little lost. Know where your headed?" I asked her, kicking a chunk of metal away from me.

Edited September 26, 2008 by Sir Walnut Reginald Trouble Clamhat