Prologue

The boy struggled against my grasp, he gasps for breath, as I push my foot into his stomach. He yells and screams for people that he knows aren't coming, we're miles away from any other civilization. I planned this perfectly.

"Stop! Please, you don't have to do this!" He screams, as he halfheartedly punches me, he's not even trying, the odd thing is that he won't fight back.

When I first ambushed him in the woods he put up quite a fight. I was scared, as I was tasked with killing someone quite a bit bigger than me. Then he punched me once, and stopped. Maybe the reality of the fight set in, maybe he was too scared and panicked.

Pathetic

He could have easily beaten me many times, and we both know that, but for some reason, he didn't. It was perfect, catching him off guard, then pushing him into his little wooden shack. You'd have to be bold to set up camp in a less enclosed area, so bold that you could come across as arrogant. Yet he didn't seem to radiate the same confident and narcissistic energy that his picture had,

I really did expect more from him, but he made my life much easier. The boy screams again, his hair falling into his eyes. I force the tip of my blade in a little. He falls silent, seeming to finally find common sense. He also stops moving after I dig the blade in a little more into his stomach.

"Better, just calm down." I mutter. I look harder at my target. His eyes fixate on my wrist. The hand holding the knife, I was carrying a throwing dagger I had found on the ground not too far from here. Exactly for this purpose.

My hands tremble, and I take the blade off of his stomach. He flinches in pain. I want to apologize, but seeing as I'm murdering him I don't.

I'm not trying to be a messy killer, I'm not trying to be a killer at all, but I have to, for my safety, for my freedom. Killing this boy is a small price to pay for my freedom.

Either way I intended to get this over and done with, quickly. Then get out. The little dagger isn't very useful to have around, so I wouldn't need to retrieve it from the body later.

Part of me was scared that I would crack under pressure, and not be able to go through with it. That I'd crumble to the floor in a crying mess, like every other time I'd witnessed somebody kill their target. I'd seen many hunters kill their targets, not all of them were quick, many were very messy.

They were committed by inexperienced people, who got lucky, or experienced people, who played their cards just right, and cracked under the pressure. Long distance and quick, close and bloody, I've seen it all I'm sad to say, but this time… I'm committing the murder.

I've also seen psychopaths, ones that kill more than their target, that kill for sport. They disgust me.

"Please! Please don't! You're doing the wrong thing!" He yells. He shoves the blade away as I prepared to land a second strike, which may very well be lethal, and he knows this. I'm not happy about killing him, but I've dreamt of it for so long, and now that day has finally come, I'll be safe.

But why can't I seem to do it? Why is there a voice in my head telling me to throw the dagger away and run for the forest? Why can't I help but feel that this is wrong? That I shouldn't do this?

I'm so close, I'm so close to finally being able to be safe, to not have to hide anymore, to be safe from them, but why can't I? If I do this I win, all I have to do is kill him, but I can't. And why hasn't he killed me yet? When he easily could.

I suddenly feel weak. My arms are heavy, but I have to do this, I have to stab him, quickly and mercilessly.

Why hasn't he killed me?

There are so many times when I zoned out, that he could have easily pushed the blade around and killed me. Just the thought of it makes me sick, I'm so close to passing out and breaking down from fear, and I'm not even the one being stabbed.

I'm sorry

Forgive me

I have to

I think, almost saying my thoughts out loud, but I don't. I want to apologize about this, but that's not how it works, this is how it works. We kill our targets, everyone has one, so that we stop being hunted, and we can live happily with our soulmates.

Soulmates

He has one, I'm going to leave some unknown person with a black band appearing on their hand, and their future husband will be gone. I almost break down at the thought, but I don't, I try to keep all the emotion from my face, but I can't, I'm weak. Even though I can easily kill him, I don't want to, but I have to, so I can be safe.

But it just feels so wrong

I close my eyes shut, and grab the knife, I hesitantly push the knife down. It finds its target and pushes into his stomach. A bloodcurdling scream fills the shack. I flinch. His cries can be heard miles around.

"You're making this worse! Just sit still!" I shout. "I have to do this! I'm sorry it has to be this way, but I have to kill you!" I say, my eyes still closed. "That's how this works!" "No It's not! You've got it all wrong! Please! Just let me go!" He pleads. I hold back my tears.

He pulls at my glove, presumably trying to take my dagger away. Any control he once had was covered by fear.

"Please! Just stop! I want to make this as painless as possible! You're making this worse! I already have to live with the guilt of killing you, please don't do this!" I plead with him, I don't know why I'm pleading, while I'm the one killing him. He shakes his head and points to something on his arm, at first I thought it was a bracelet, but when I looked closer I saw it was a soulmate band, I couldn't tell the color, but it definitely was one.

"I'm so sorry to you and your soulmate." I say, he starts to say something, but can't make it out with the wound in his stomach. I hold back my sobs, why do I have to do this? This is awful, I hate it!

His eyes soften and cloud over, as blood loss slowly takes away his life. Another soulmate that will find their future husband dead. One more person with a black band on their wrist. Because of me. I've selfishly ruined their future. But this is how it is, it's allowed. It's okay that I killed him. It's okay to kill him. And only him.

There's about to be another person with a black band on their wrist instead of a colored one. Soulmate bands turn black when your soulmate dies. Unless you revive them, which you do by killing your target if you haven't already. It's not giving them immortality, more of a second chance at life. Which means he will get another chance at life, at the cost of another person. You can only do this once, you don't get another target, you get freedom from your hunter, which is what I'm after, which is what I soon will have.

At the price of this boy's life.

Maybe I have a black band, I couldn't care less if I did, I'm not one to like soulmates. Most are though, most are. Not me, I've learned when I was young that you can't trust anybody in this world.

My love isn't decided by some stupid band that appears when I touch the person I'm destined to be with. When I meet 'the love of my life'. Sounds like something out of a fairytale. This world isn't a fairytale, it's a nightmare. You have to kill someone to be safe. And if you don't, someone will kill you, that's how this world works, and it shouldn't. You have to kill someone for your happiness, sick, twisted, and not at all happy. No happy endings for murderers.

Murderers

I'm about to become one, as soon as I take this boy's life. I press my knees into his chest. "Just stay still, please. I'll make it fast." I say to him.

To my surprise, the boy doesn't move. Instead he pleads with me one last time. "This isn't how you're supposed to do this, you're doing it wrong." He says in a pleading voice. He stops speaking and just stares at me.

Unconsciousness beckons, it would be so easy to slip into. Yet I can't, I fight it. I started this, and now I have to finish this. My body trembles with fear, and I try to keep hold of my knife, I can, but just barely. I hate this world, I hate it so much.

I just wanted to be happy

Is that too much to ask?

I know the answer is sadly yes. I slowly position the blade over his forehead. And prepare for the third and final strike. His eyes are filled with pain, but he's too weak to scream. I want to cry but I can't, as I plunge the knife into his chest. The noise is sickening, and I can't look at what I have done, it's too painful. His body goes limp beneath me, a boy that was unfairly murdered, because of this world.

This is how it's meant to be

This is how it's meant to be

This is how it's meant to be

"No" I whisper to myself, this was okay, killing this boy was not a crime. It was a normal thing. It was allowed.

SO WHY DOES IT FEEL SO WRONG?

I think, then I come to a conclusion. "Because I can never make it right." I whisper, full of pain. I can't breathe.

Just because something is allowed, doesn't make it right.

I hang my head in shame, I've succumbed to the cruel ways of this world. And I can't go back. Once you kill someone in cold blood, you know you can't go back. My vision blurs in fear. I cry over the boy.

Consciousness slips away from me. And I welcome the oblivion, as if it will ever get rid of what I've done.

It's not fair. I shouldn't have to kill. I shouldn't, but I do. We all do. And that isn't fair, it's incredibly messed up. It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair.

It's not fair, nothing ever is here, and I know I shouldn't, but I can't help but apologize.

"I'm sorry."

"I didn't want to."

"I swear"

"I wouldn't have done it if I didn't have to"

"But I did"

"And I'm sorry"

"I'm sorry"

"Will you ever forgive me?"