Another Soul.

I let out another sigh, it was the third one yet. I guess being a sniper is not easy after all. You heard me, a sniper, that too, a well known one from the black market. It was not by choice though. I am an orphan, never knew who my parents were and my childhood in an orphanage. One day, probably when I was seven years old, I was adopted by an underground organization. Since that day my life has been everything but normal, I held a gun when I was just ten, could shoot perfectly by the age of 16, and even killed my first target when I was 18. It was an old lady if I remember it right.

I stood there at the corner of the station, amidst all the daily chatter of the town. It was as nosy as ever, and the baby that just walked in didn’t help at all. I tilted my hat down to shadow my face from view. The minister had hired me this time. Some dirty work he must have had to make me come to such a place. I was told to wait here for further instructions, that is in other words, to know who I was supposed to kill. I impatiently tapped my foot on the marble floor, producing a pattern of clicks that I could barely hear above the racket in the room.

Just then, I felt a presence approach me. The man leaned against the wall beside me and left what sounded like a deep sigh. I could tell he was short and a bit plump by the shadow that formed in front of me. “Oh! Didn’t see you there…” he mumbled to himself. Then he looked at me and spoke out loud, “Good evening young man. What brought you here on such a busy day? I don’t believe you’re from around, here are you?”. I turned to face him and lifted my hat a bit, “I am not sir, and as for why I came here, duty calls.” I replied with a smile. “What work do you do?” he asked after a pause. I age him a questioning look which he seemed to notice for right after that, “Just curious since you know, you look quite handsome. Are you an actor?” he said defensively. “I shoot for a living.” I replied truthfully, as I shifted a bit on my legs to gaze out the window.

I was definitely going to miss this place, the trees, the beautiful sunrise. One could never get tired of this. “You work as a photographer? Well now, that’s pleasant.” He said. I let out an amused chuckle, “Whatever sails your boat.” I muttered, mostly to myself. The man seemed to be quite old considering the scarce white hair on his shiny head. “And what work do you do sir?” I asked curiously. He looked up at me with his empty black eyes, “I am the minister’s assistant, here on a top-secret mission.” Whispered proudly. I flashed him a friendly smile in response. 

This was too much of a coincidence, was he here to give me the information? It sure doesn’t seem like it. Just to be sure I waited for a bit longer before I asked him about my job. He kept humming a tune that sounded like a children’s rhyme. “It’s my daughter’s favorite. She would never even dream of sleeping till I sang this to her.” He said with a soft smile caressing his lips. It was quiet between us again and the ruckus that filled the hall didn’t make it any less awkward for the both of us. “Well, er… what do you take pictures of?” the man asked. “People.” I replied shortly. I honestly did not want to speak with the man anymore. He seemed to be dreamy and care free, but for some reason I kept having this hunch that this was fake, that the smile and the relaxed attitude were all fake. I bought my hand up and pinched my nose bridge, why is the so-called information taking so long? Just then a man bumped into me, making my back hit the wall. “Watch it.” I warned the red-head that fell on me. He muttered a small sorry and scurried of into the crowd. I let out a deep sigh again, everyone seemed to be testing my patience today. 

I stuffed my hands back into my coat pockets and decided to depart the place before I felt something brush against my hand in my left pocket. I stopped dead in my tracks, I don’t remember putting something in my pockets… Carefully fishing the piece of matter out of my pocket and into the light, I found a photo. In the picture stood a man wearing a wide smile, scarce white hair on his head, black eyes and a sunken face. 

Behind the photo, bold black writing read, ‘KILL HIM!’. 

“Do I know you? That is my picture in your hand son.” The man beside me spoke. He bent a bit more to get a clear view of the picture. I sighed quietly; I hate this part. 

I put on a psychotic smile and reached for my gun behind me with my free hand. Grasping 'BRSEA model 388', a beauty which was gifted by my last client, I aimed it at his forehead, just between his brows. His eyes widened as he began to backup a bit, he slowly raised his hands into my view. “W-what are you doing?” he asked. 

I dove into his fearful glassy eyes that silently pleaded for mercy. Taking a deep breath, “Turns out, you’re my duty…” I said, after which a few moments later a gunshot rang through the walls of the station. Soon the station was filled with screams and people from every corner rushed toward the exits. 

“I am sorry…” I whispered as I picked the bullet from beside the man’s lifeless body. I took off my hat and stuffed both the bullet and the hat into my coat pocket as I rushed out of the station, blending into the crowd. 

Following the horde, I reached behind the nearby public library. I crouched down against the wall as the surrounding noise faded. I sat there gasping for air, memories flooded my mind as I drowned into darkness. “I am sorry… I did it again…” I whispered to myself. “I shot a man again…” I mumbled, now tears glistening my eyes. I looked up at the deep blue sky, the stars now shone, lighting up the sky like tiny lanterns. My hands were shaking now as a tear rolled down my cheek. “I a-am so sorry... Mia…. I took another soul….”