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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1293952-Fairy-Killer
Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #1293952
Never cross a fairy
              The horror of the situation struck me with a ferocity that rocked me back on my heels. I hadn’t known the consequences when I made the deal. Fear surges through me. I reach out blindly for anything to clutch so I can feel grounded. This is what it feels like to be marked for death.
              My eyes are held captive by the burnished steel of the gun. My life belongs to the hit man. I had known today wasn’t going to be a good day when I woke up. The butterflies in my stomach were gone plus my pale green skin was very gray. Danger can come in all shapes, sizes, colors, and species. A fairy killer could not be a human. They didn’t have the skills.
         After the initial shock my line of vision grows till I can see my killer. He is covered head to toe. Only his eyes show. Something about the way he stands makes me nervous. His feet are shoulder width apart, body squared, gun level, no nonsense in his stance. Today is the first day of the end of my life.
         I never thought I would be cornered like an animal. I am not part of the animal kingdom nor of the human world; I am beyond them. Some people think me a God, others a demon. With the way my luck has been this past year, and the predicament I find myself in, I’m not as surprised as some might think. What can I say, people love to hate me.
          My killer stares at me with his unwavering gaze. His eyes never move from the target. I can’t see any trembling in his taut body. This man means business. I slowly sit and curl into a good pouncing position. His eyes squint while I move adapting his pose in response. He is not going to let me get away. I mentally cross my fingers and spring in the air. My instincts flow through me. His gun follows me without a flicker of hesitation or bullet. It’s like he knew what I was going to do. This was no ordinary hit man.
         Am I faster than the bullet in his gun? What kind of bullets does he have? Silver? Lead? Gold? Has this hit man done his research and gone with Lead? I hope not. I’m not ready to die. “Please don’t kill me.” I hope my pleading will reach some part of my killer’s brain.
         He says nothing. There isn’t even any body movement to indicate he heard or cared.
         “Please, don’t kill me. I’m begging you.”
         Still nothing.
         I stare at him with golden eyes willing him to let me go. In return I get the blank stare of a cold hearted killer. There’s no way I can get out of this. Do I run and try to survive? Be hunted down like a rabid animal? Or do I stay and go with the outcome that is pre-destined for me? My mind and body are at war with each other. My mind is telling me to fight while my body surges with flight. I am doomed
I run.
         I fly in the opposite direction willing myself to be faster than a bullet. I am a superman. I keep repeating that in my head, hoping it comes true. My ears are filled with the sound of my heartbeat; I hear nothing but my labored breathing. Is my killer behind me? I force that thought out of my mind as I run for my life. Pinging noise follow me as bullets imbed themselves into trees. I hear his footsteps gaining ground as I slow down to listen. I dart in a zigzag pattern trying to loose. Trees, bushes, caves, so many choices for me. I reach the river that snakes its way through the woods. I race along the flowing water it to the waterfall. The distance between us is growing. I climb the rocky terrain to the cave and hide behind the waterfall. This was my hiding spot when I was a child. It hasn’t changed much over the decades. I wait for my killer by the entrance.
         He climbs up the terrain after me. His head peers into the cave. I reach for an old branch next to me. I see him past the boulder, gun still in hand. I get up with my weapon and rush my killer. He barely has time to turn before I hit his arm. The gun clatters to the floor. The waterfall drowns out his screams. The killer cradles his arm. I swing the branch one more time, knocking his head up and pushing him into the waterfall to the maelstrom water below. I rush to the entrance looking for the body. The pounding of the falls churns it below the surface of the water. I wait to see if anything would emerge.
         An hour goes by before the body emerges from the froth from the falls. The killer has to be dead; nobody could survive that ordeal. I use my branch to pull the body into shore. He weighed more than I expected. Huffing and puffing I get him on land. I lay down next to my catch. I stare at the body I just killed. It twitches. I crab crawl backwards away from the body. Is my mind playing tricks on me? Did I see a dead body twitch? I stare at it again.
            Nothing.
            I inch towards the body. I poke it with my still handy branch.
            Nothing.
            I get closer. The mask he wears is ripped exposing a line of perfect creamy skin, too smooth to be male. I reach forward tentatively to remove the mask. The fabric is wrapped around the face but the rip makes it is easy to remove. Pulling the black mask away I see the face of my killer. The smooth skin, the pouted lips, the long eyelashes… it’s a woman.
         I look closely at the body. The masculine clothing hides her identity. Her hair is cropped short like a man. I push the face to one side so I don’t see her open eyes staring blankly at me. Behind her ear are flaps of skin that hide a set of gills. They slowly flex, almost like they were trying to breathe. Her chest slowly moves in a rhythmic pattern. She’s still alive. I grab the remains of her mask and tie her hands and feet. I back away, waiting for her to wake up.
         Her eyes start to flutter. I tense my body. Her movements are jerky, like it hurts too much to move. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was internal damage from the waterfall. I shift and foliage beneath my feet crunch. She turns towards me. “Who are you?”
         I know she understands because she squints at me, she just doesn’t speak. She flexes her wrists trying to get free from her waterlogged bondage. “What are you?” She looks up at me then, eyes wide and then quickly turns her head away. I knew I was on to something. I inch closer to her, branch in hand. “What are you? Are you some sort of half-breed? A mutant? A science experiment? What are you?” my voice rising with each word.
         Groaning she rolls over to look me full in the face. “What do you think I am?” her voice is raspy like a blues singer.
         “An oddity.”
         “That’s what all you full-breed busy bodies think,” she said with venom dripping from every word. “But look at you now…you have a price on your head.”
         “You’re forgetting something. I’m not the one tied up right now.”
         “Really?” She pulls her hands and feet in front of her and smiles.
         “How did you do that? No one can undo my knots, they’re legendary.”
         “Not anymore.” She gets to her feet faster than is humanly possible. “It’s time to pay your debt.”
         “I’m not ready.”
         “I’m through playing games with you.” The blank stare returns to her face. Even without a gun in hand she propels violence in waves.
         “How did you survive the waterfall?”
         “You said it yourself, I’m an oddity.” She side kicks the branch out of my hand and rushes me. I fall to the rocky ground knocking the breath out of me. She places her foot over my throat cutting off my air. I struggle against her, trying to shake her weight from me. Slowly things get dark. My arms drop to the ground.
                                                 *          *          *
         “You idiot. Didn’t you know what you were doing?”
She steps off her victim’s throat.
“Did you think that you could create a stronger hybrid, something that couldn’t be killed as easily?” She leaves the body and rests next to a tree.
Reaching into a hidden pocket on her clothing she pulls out a waterproof military grade cell phone. She hits the auto dial and calls the boss.
“It’s done. What do you want as proof?”
         “Her head.”
She hangs up her phone and wills her nails on her left hand to grow till they were like swords. There were some perks to her breed. Walking towards the body she slices her nails through the neck. The head rolls off neatly and without much blood.
         “I guess she didn’t have a good head on her shoulders.”
She throws the body into the river and bags the head as proof of her death.
                                                *          *          *
         The bloody sack plops on his desk. “Here’s your proof.” He turns in his chair till he faces his employee. Slowly, he leans forward and peers into the bag.
         “There you go,” Max throws a bundle of money on the table, “take it and leave. I’ll call you if I have another gig for you.” She reaches for the money and fans through it counting.
“Thanks.” She turns to leave.
         “Rain…” That one word stops her in her tracks. She turns around.
         Swallowing her fear, she looks him in the face, “Yes.”
         “You did good, kid.” His smile makes my heart lift a little.
I walk toward the door. This was the first day of the rest of my life.

word count: 1704
© Copyright 2007 Rhiannon (mysticvixen at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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