Warning, contains violence and offensive use of language. Read at your own risk.
***
Exhilarated.
That's the one word that best describes how I feel.
I'm exhilarated.
What I'm hearing is the cause of this feeling. I'm listening to my favorite music.
The screams of my victims that I torture to death.
It's beautiful.
What I love most about it is that I control the pitch. How high or low it is. I control the rhythm.
If I stick the knife I have in my hand between my captive's shoulder blades, he'll make a high pitched sound like he's doing right now. If I stick it in his thigh, avoiding his artery, it'll be lower than before.
But none the less, I love them all the same.
In my organization, we get rid those we see as a threat to society. We take necessary information from them and get it through whatever means necessary.
In the end we end up killing them.
We're called the Setting Sun.
It represents death, like in literature class.
The loss of life.
"Where is Ignacio?"
The man before me was trembling in the chair with his hands tied behind him and his feet tied to one foot of the chair each.
He tried to speak but it was inaudible. I put my ears closer to hear what he was saying.
He must have had a rush of adrenaline because the bitch bit my ear.
Pulling away quickly, I punched him in the mouth.
"Fucking cúnt, you bit me!" I was outraged. My face would be the exact shade of my hair which was in a ponytail right now.
Being in a tantrum, without thought, I took the hammer in my hand and gave him a heavy knock on the head that splattered brain matter across the room, forgetting he had the information we needed.
Not even a second later, the door to the room was busted in. My supervisor had a livid look on his face. He was angry with me.
But I didn't care.
"Carrie Mythweald!" his voice thundered throughout the room, it was quite empty save for the chair and the table of equipment behind it, so his voice echoed. He is in a dark suit with his dark hair combed back. I on the other hand is in a black turtle neck sweater with black tights and a pair of black sneakers.
"It's Agent Joan to you. What do you want?" I questioned in a nonchalant tone. My hands were crossed beneath my breasts and my feet were spread shoulder width apart.
"He was an important source for the information we needed! Why did you kill him?" he was a handsome man but with his face twisted in anger, it was hard to tell. His face is as red as mine was a moment ago.
"He bit me, he deserved his death. I even think he went too peacefully." My tone is the complete opposite of what his is. I'm totally calm. Like nothing happened.
His face turned an even brighter shade of red if that was possible. His hands were flailing around as he spoke.
"That is a valid reason to kill him, Mythweald?" He stressed my last name. I could care less if he's mad or of what he thinks. I'm my own woman.
"Shut up, Campbell", I stressed his last name, "It's not like we can't get the information we need elsewhere anyways" I tell him with a shrug.
"And how do you know that?"
"Because, every big boss of the underworld always have a great number of subordinates. Besides, he was just a little pawn in his game." I said with a shrug.
He was calming down now.
"So why not kill him in the first place?" An incredulous look appeared on his face.
I walk up to him until we are directly beside each other. Patting him on the shoulder.
"You know I can't go home without listening to my music" I feel him stiffen under my hand, "Good night, Campbell".
I walked out the open door leaving him speechless. Unable to think what to reply to my comment.