Destroyed

I pressed one hand over his mouth.

His eyes flew wide, confusion smothering.

He squirmed and his hands came up to touch me.

It was instantaneous. To be inflicted is to inflict.

Kill. Sever. Bleed. Devour.

I bowed to the command for the first time in two f**king years.

With precision and an emotion almost described as serenity, I dragged the sharp blade over the gristle and tendons of his throat.

Instantly, warm, coppery blood sprang from his body in a brutal cascade. His eyes wrenched wider, his mouth snapped below my palm, and he thrashed around in death throes.

His heart pumped rapidly toward death and the stench of his bowels loosening serenaded him from living to corpse.

I left his grave and returned to the hunt. The hunt for evil. He was the first to die, but definitely not the last. I gave myself completely to the sweetness of killing. I threw myself into my task and everything else ceased to exist. Time blurred, blood flowed, and men died like f**king flies.

Room after room, I entered and dispatched. Five with the silenced gun. Seven with a blade. Two with the hammer. Four with my bare hands.

The night belonged to death, and I was the executioner.

The eighteenth handler died just before daybreak. His final cry petered out, smothered by my hand, and I stood upright rolling my shoulders.

The conditioning pulsed behind my eyes and I could barely feel my extremities. My body had become an instrument of carnage and I didn’t focus on the splatter of blood or other human tissue covering my clothing.

Stalking down the corridor, I knew I wouldn’t find my handler in this wing. He always slept alone on the opposite side of the compound. He was the next to die. He was my final trophy.

I savoured the anticipation and prowled through the dwelling, suffering blending memories of Obsidian and here. Every door looked the same, the length of corridor the same. I kept expecting to see Oscar appear or Clara bolting toward me.

“You’re not a bad man.”

Clara had that wrong. I was the worst sort of man: I was a murderer.

Instead of rushing to finish my mission, I stopped to look at the cells. I couldn’t let them die behind locked doors when I snuffed out the final handler. Retracing my steps, I headed to the heart of the house where the alarm system rested along with the security mainframe that kept every keypad lock secure on the cells.

With my blade, I stabbed it into the main console and severed power to the rest of the compound.

Instantly, alarms erupted, screaming a warning, shredding the silence of the dawn.

Rushing back upstairs, I passed children, teenagers, and adults as they shuffled out of their rooms. Recruits and operatives, all in different stages of training looked bewildered but with a small spark of hope in their eyes.

The ones who knew me nodded in silent respect before charging down the stairs and out into the freezing wilderness. The ones who didn’t were coaxed by others to leave.

It only took a few minutes before the entire establishment was an empty tomb.

Another minute until the person I was on my way to see, found me. I didn’t hear him arrive, but I sensed him.

Kill. Sever. Bleed. Devour.

The hair on my neck stood up on end as I spun to face my nemesis. My handler stood behind me, hands on his hips, his perfect face looking like a flawless sculpture. He was blond and beautiful, but beneath his perfection lurked oil and ink and filth for a soul.

My heart bucked, sending thickening fear through my blood. The conditioning stuttered and failed when faced with the one man who was king over me.

“If it isn’t Operative Fox. I see you disobeyed orders once again and didn’t swallow your last task.” He cocked his head. “And you’re no longer blind. Interesting.”

I didn’t say anything. Clamping my lips shut, I swallowed my terror and stood my ground.

This man had hurt me more than anyone and the conditioning crunched my spine, ordering me to bow to him. To grovel for forgiveness.

“I love you, so you can’t be a bad man.” Clara’s sweet voice pierced through my fog, giving me something to latch onto. I wouldn’t let him win. Not this time.

He suddenly laughed. “How did you pull that trick, Fox? I must say. Very inventive.”

I clenched my hands around the hunting knife. “No trick. You warped my mind so badly, my brain decided it no longer wanted the gift of sight. You drove many of us mad with what you made us do.”

Clucking his tongue, he shook his head. “Always so dramatic.” He paced forward a couple of steps, closing the distance between us. Holding out his hand, he growled, “Give me the blade, Operative Fox. Return to your cell immediately. Punishment will be absolute after this heinous treason.”

My legs spasmed with the compulsion to obey. I took a step back unable to ignore the conditioning forcing me to my old cell. It crippled my mind, took my limbs hostage. It was like fighting a puppet master holding all my f**king strings.

Closing my eyes, I thought of Obsidian and the man I’d become. I’d struck fear into the hearts of others. I’d become more than just an operative. That man wasn’t afraid of this blond ass**le.

I’m not afraid.

I forced my foot to move, followed by another.

“Obey me, Fox. Stand down.”

I groaned, clutching my stomach as a wash of sickness filled me. Obey. Obey. Obey. Once again, the conditioning buckled my body, making me groan. I belonged to him and it hurt—fucking hurt—to disobey.

Gritting my teeth, hating the white smog settling over my eyes, I pressed forward another step. “Not this time.”

Every shuffle rebooted my heart from thrumming with terror to thudding with an entirely different beat. One that craved blood. I had violence running in my veins and another’s life-force on my hands. He might have butchered and tortured me, but ultimately he made me stronger. Strong enough to withstand him. Strong enough to end him.

“I’m f**king warning you, operative. Take one more step, and I’ll slaughter you where you stand.”

The conditioning rushed me like a swarm of wolves, tearing savagely at my body. Obey. Obey. Obey.

I locked my legs into position. Fighting. Battling. Winning.

Then I took another step.

My handler bared his teeth, eyes livid. “One more f**king move and I’ll let the bears have you.”

Only a foot between us. Our heights were even, our body size mirror images of each other. However, unlike the past, I was no longer his slave.

He was mine.

I struck.

Grabbing his neck, I squeezed with everything left inside me. “You no longer have the right to tell me what to do. You never had the right. You’re the f**king devil for making me destroy my family, and it’s time you returned to hell.”