I'd love any feedback on this possible, but I do have three things I was really unsure of.
1. The first two sentences.
2. The fact that it is present tense.
3. The part that says 'sigh in relief' in the second to last paragraph.
Any suggestions on those, or anything else, will be greatly appreciated!
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Reasons To Kill
"Sit. I’m finishing reading over your resumé.”
I nearly cringe as I hear her voice; it has hardened so much in the years since I last heard it. Will mine do the same?
Focus.
I smile at the woman, perching on the seat in front of her. My nail digs into my palm slightly to keep my mind on the task at hand.
Observe.
I take the room in, noting all exits and possible weapons if things don’t go as planned. My eyes rest on Cameron, who is still reading the papers in front of her, a small smile playing on her pale lips.
Suspect.
She recognizes me; I'm sure of it. How could she not? We were best friends for seven years. There’s no way my disguise fooled her. But does she know why I'm here?
Relax.
There's no way she could know my mission. No one knows Master's plans unless He tells them himself, and she hasn't had contact with Him in over two years.
"So," she begins, pulling me from my thoughts. She rests her chin on a loose fist, looking me in the eye for the first time in so long. "It's really taken Him two years to find me? He's really losing His touch."
Don't react.
I say nothing; simply stare back at her, nonchalant. She laughs a harsh, cruel laugh. "Thought I didn't know why you were here, Katty?"
My jaw tightens; no one calls me Katty anymore. "It's Katrina."
"Fine, Katrina." My name sounds like venom on her lips. "Why does he need me back?"
Never admit anything.
"What makes you think He needs you back?" I ask, sitting up a little taller in my chair. "He has me now."
Cameron shakes her head, looking at me as if I were a small child. "Katty, Katty, Katty. You can't honestly believe that you're better than me, can you? Face it; you've always been goody-two shoes. How can you live up to me? Murder, theft, you could never do those things."
"How would you know?" I ask, trying to appear important, but my voice isn't as strong as I would have liked. "I've already stolen for Him."
"And now you've been sent here, to murder me?"
"Exactly."
"Katty," she begins, standing up and walking around the desk to stand right in front of me. "Young, naïve, Katty. You really believe that is why He has sent you here?"
"Of course!" I reply, glancing down at the floor for a moment. She notices.
"He sent you here to get me back," she whispers, and I look up at the woman who used to be my friend. Her eyes are hollow and empty, and there's no compassion left in them. I sink into the chair, trying to add distance between us.
She leans over me, placing her hands on the armrests of my chair so I can’t escape. There’s no way I can reach my knife with her standing over me like this. "He knew I wouldn't just sit around, waiting for you to kill me." She pulls her hand back, slipping it in her pocket and revealing a simple silver knife, similar to the one in mine.
"He knew that I couldn’t just let you go after you dishonored him," she continues, examining the gleaming metal in her hand, "I’ve been trained too well. You were sent to kill me, and you failed. Now I must punish you, as I’ve been trained. You do know the punishment, don’t you, Katty?" She leans closer and whispers in my ear, “Death.”
My eyes widen, and I desperately try to talk some sense into her. "Cammy, please, we were best friends, you can't kill me…"
She continues as if I hadn’t even spoken. “And then, once I had gotten a taste of murder once more, I wouldn’t be able to resist. I’d return to Him, to do His bidding once more. To complete the murders that He’s incapable of doing Himself, to avenge those who have dishonored Him. Just like I’m going to do to you.”
“Cammy…Please…Just let me go…”
“I can’t, Katty. See, now you’ve dishonored Him, and you’ve come here to murder me. I have two reasons to kill you. I was willing to do it for one.”
She places the knife on my neck, and I feel the sharp edge of cool metal against my skin. She presses gently, just enough to draw a slight amount of blood. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing this all to simply disappear, to just be a nightmare. It isn't.
"Are you afraid?" she asks, taunting me in my last few moments.
Forget all emotion.
"No," I reply. There’s no way I am going to die a coward.
“You should be,” she whispers, then slides the metal into my neck.
I hear my Master’s voice in my head one last time, and I nearly sigh in relief, knowing it is the last time I’ll ever hear Him.
Pathetic.
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