“We cannot be forsaken” I have that tattooed on my lower back, my personal mantra. I was a hunter. Despite being entirely mortal, I retained the memories and the divine spark from my last appointment. I hunted mortal criminals and immortal alike. I like immortals. They make me feel normal. I can stop and breathe and take in these precious moments of tranquility, surrounded by the familiarity of supernatural auras.
My last target had been a younger agent. I can’t remember her name but really, it’s of no consequence. She lay on the pavement dead regardless. I was told later that her death had signaled the return of Vengence to the material.
“Just another mark to follow.” I mutter and toss the finished file into the “circular” file, the trash can.
“I understand you’re after a reaper next?” The psychic, Sigourney, stood in my doorway. I ignored her studiously, reloading my gun and inspecting all of my equipment.
“Vlad, do you really want to die that badly?” Her eyes held a sad acceptance that required no answer from me.
“Please. You can’t do this Vlad.”
“Yes I can Siggy.” I looked up finally. I met her sad, suffering gaze with one of determination. I had lived longer than any mortal hunter should. I was 38 and feeling every year of it. I groaned in the morning when I stretched and popped joints all over. I was losing my edge and doing so quickly. My eyes needed glasses to read nowadays and I was taking something called glucosamine for my knees. I pulled off my shirt and examined the wounds from the last couple of days. A pair of cool hands traced over old bullet wounds and a long scar down my back. Siggy was always concerned about the hits I took. I relaxed under her touch and sighed.
“Please don’t try to stop me Siggy.” I said barely breathing at this point.
“I have to. It’s my job.” She said sliding her hands over my abs and holding me close to her. I sighed and looked into the mirror at us. Sigourney rests her head on my shoulder, holding my fast. I looked away from the mirror almost as quickly as I had looked up. I didn’t want to leave but I couldn’t stay any longer. I was taking more and more hits and honestly going mainstream wasn’t an option for me. I broke away from her silent damnation and determination to make me feel bad for choosing to end it all in this fight. She had already seen the outcome and wouldn’t tell me. I rummaged through my closet briefly and pulled on a black turtleneck sweater and my leather overcoat. Siggy sat on the edge of my bed and watched my ritual movements. I said a quick prayer and holstered my guns. My sword lay on the bureau and I picked it up last, starring at Siggy.
“Good bye.” I said harshly and turned towards my end.
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