The sharp sound of glass shattering stabbed at my ears. My friend sitting in front of me fell forward into her cup of coffee, the white foam in the shape of a leaf resting on top of it losing its form and splashing out of the cup. A trail of blood leaked out the sides of her head, staining the white table cover with its crimson coloring. She was shot.
I duck down behind the table, my heart instantly starting to race as I try to protect as much of myself as possible. The other customers inside the cafe shrieked as they scrambled for cover, most of them tumbling to the ground before they could even have a chance to do so. Even after tens of bodies hit the floor, the sounds of a full-automatic rifle continued to fire away.
Only one question lingered on my mind as the bodies of innocent people dropped: what the FUCK is happening?!
Ellie was dead. She's actually dead. My best friend of 14 years. Is dead. And so were all these other people.
That was a thing of the past though. Sure, it was an event that caused my life to spiral down to the very darkest pit of the world, but hey, who cares, right? You wanna see some violence and fights! That's what you're here for, right? No lights, no cameras, only action.
Still, I have to explain how I survived my entire college getting shot up. Well, that's the thing. I didn't. On September 19th, I, Vivian Renee, died after getting shot three... no. Two times? Or was it four? Eh, I'm not sure. I died again that day. And again. And again. Oh, I also died October 9th. And October 23rd. Can't forget December 11th either! I hope you're getting the picture. If you're not, then let me spell it out for you.
I A-M I-M-M-O-R-T-A-L.
After I die, I'm able to come back to life a certain amount of time before I pass away. Not sure what defines what period of time when I come back, but it seems to be whenever is convenient for me. It's pretty useful overall. Sure, it's a bit scary at first, but you get used to it after the twentieth last breath. That's a pretty contradicting statement, huh?
You know what's the worst part of this whole thing though? The whole not being able to die thing isn't so bad, but you know what is absolutely horrible? People don't realize it. Like yeah, it doesn't sound like the worst thing when I say it, but the effects are there.
When I revert to a time before I die and I prevent my death, people don't know that I died and the only reason why I'm still alive is because I know what was going to kill me. I could die fifty times in the span of a minute and people wouldn't know. At the same time, all those cool dodges and counterattacks and whatever look incredibly impressive. Impressive to the point where the government started to notice me. They don't conduct experiments on me, but they do think that all of what I've been doing is natural talent. Soon enough, I'm taking up a job as an assassin, taking down some of the most notorious criminals worldwide. I'm talking future dictators planning on taking over the world kind of criminals. Okay, maybe a bit of a stretch but lucky me, huh? I do have to admit, it pays well. My parents still would've wanted me to be a doctor though. Or a lawyer. There goes the full college experience too.
Oh well, what can you do about it? In all 19 years of my life, I've learned basically two things: one, go with what life throws at you and two, make the most out of your situation. Sure, I might not apply that to everything, but being paid six figures a year to take down bad guys while not being able to die? Sounds like a steal to me. I don't see myself as an opportunist but it's pretty hard for me to reject something like that.
This job isn't all sunshine and rainbows though. Sometimes I keep dying over and over again in a certain mission that the time that it takes to actually finish everything without any repercussions can span up to several hours, and in rare cases, a few days. Haha, yeah... That's happening right now.
A blindfold is roughly torn off my head, my eyes getting blinded by the sudden instance of light. I blink a few times before meeting face to face a man in his late forties with a buzzcut. Jared Kush, a psychotic murderer who was responsible for several deaths in Texas. This is about like... the tenth time I've died to this guy? Okay, listen. I might be in a job where you're supposed to kill people, but I never said that I was good at it. I majored computer science in college and watch vintage sci-fi movies as a hobby. Whoever heard of being suited for a job these days anyway?
"Hey there, beautiful! You ready to have some fun?-" The guy says with a smile on his face, the ends of his lips stretching from cheek to cheek. Ugh, what a creep.
"Yeah, yeah, sure. Do you mind telling me like, the entire layout of your house before you kill me? A tour would be nice too. Your place is just so nice!" Gosh. Who knew trying to sound convincing was so hard? Thankfully, that actually worked. Apparently this guy is so deranged to the point he just says anything. I'm surprised I didn't try this earlier.
I'm not gonna make you read through that whole thing though. I'm just so kind and merciful, aren't I? Hopefully I'm not so sentimental when I blow this guy's brains out.
"Thanks! Well, if you'll be so kind, I gotta get going now." A smile of my own curls onto my lips while he loses his. "Go? Well you must be more crazier than me if you think you're getting out of here!" He cackles before I bite the inside of my left cheek. See, when you're in a high demand job for the government, you can get just about anything you want. So when I asked for a small pouch full of poison to be sewn inside my mouth, they didn't question it at all. How else am I supposed to reset when I'm tied up?
My eyes flutter to a close as everything around me gets blurry. And you know what? Getting poisoned hurts like hell. Your muscles start to tighten up and it feels like a hand is coming up your throat and yanking your tongue down with it. But like getting shot, stabbed, electrocuted, decapitated, gutted, exploded, and overall just dying in general, you get used to it.
Death 1.
I wake up standing in front of an old rickety house with wooden planks boarding up the windows, the sun shining against my face as bits of sawdust poke my eyes. The faded white paint peels off its walls as if trying to escape the man inside it, and while looking at it, you can swear its tilting a little. But even though it's ugly on the outside... actually scratch that. It's even uglier on the inside. The ugliest part, however, is the doorknob.
First things first when entering this guy's house: kick the door open. I learned that the hard way. Who knew a little ball of metal could hold so much electricity? It still baffles me how I died to that twice. I just had to make sure that was what I died to the first time around.
I lifted up my foot and gave the door a good kick. Thankfully, the door hinges were rusting along with the rest of the house so it went down easily.
Second step: dodge the three bullets. Jared comes to up from behind a corner and points a pistol at me. Sidestep, pivot, step. That's the easiest way I found to dodge them. It sounds pretty easy, but getting the right movement and finesse is a whole lot harder. I think I've got it nailed down though. Sure it took me, like, seven lives to perfect it, but that doesn't matter.
He pulled the trigger and the sound of the first shot reverberated through the house. I sidestep to the right, my eyes following the bullet as it wizzes past me.
Another shot. I pivot the left side of my body so my back is lined up against the right wall of the hallway.
Third shot. I step forward, the bullet barely missing my shoulder and hitting the wall behind me. Phew. There we go. Wasn't too hard.
Jared furrows his eyebrows and dashes out of sight. I think I'd be pretty bewildered too if the person I shot at dodged every bullet perfectly. Well, that's a bit of a lie. I'm not the best shot with my dual pistols. "Oh, but Vivian! Why not use something like a rifle then!" Good question! It's a whole lot easier to point a pistol at my head than position a rifle to do that. It's a nice and easy reset. Sure, a bit morbid, but still better than taking ten seconds fumbling around to turn one of those things at me.
I rush towards the archway Jared shot at me from and quickly put up my left arm. Third step: block and disarm. As I did so, Jared pistol-whipped the part of my arm that was blocking my head. I used my left hand and gripped the barrel of the pistol before using my right hand to push the side of his wrist to my right, loosening his fingers and causing the hold on his firearm to falter. I take hold of his gun and kick him in his stomach. In the split second he takes to readjust himself, I unload the bullet inside the chamber and push the clip out of the pistol before throwing it to the ground.
Yet again, Jared runs away through a doorway close by and closes it behind him. That's all this guy ever does when he finds someone that can stand up against him. Anyone weaker and he's all over them. I dunno, man, psychopaths are weird. It's just their mindset that's off-putting to me.
I open the door he ran into and walk inside another smaller hallway with three doors in front of me. Since I left the information he told me from you guys, the room on the left is completely collapsed, the room in the middle leads to outside of the house, and the one on the right...
Fourth step: finish the job. Kicking the door open, I hear Jared groan as it hits his nose. I pull out my pistol and strike his nose with it for the double whammy. He stumbles onto the floor and I kneel on top of his forearms to keep him from moving. His eyes widen as he stared down the sights of my gun. Too bad for him he was looking down the wrong side. One squeeze of the trigger and- BAM! Done. Finally killed the guy. Ten lives down the drain just for that. This better pay well.
A pea-sized hole remains in between his eyes. I let out a sigh, the sunlight shining through the faded curtains and onto the man's corpse. Ugh. I got blood on my shirt. This stuff doesn't wash out well at all! Usually I reset whenever something like this happens, but who knows if I'll be able to perform that all over again? Ugh, fuck me. Whatever. I'm sure there'll be a spare in the car. I suck on my teeth and spit on Jared's face before standing up.
Pressing on my earpiece, I start talking to my supervisor. "Got him, Chrissy. Do we need the body or..."
The audio scratches for a second before the peppy voice of a woman can be heard on the other side. "Oh wow, already! That was fast. And no, don't worry about it, honey. Clean up crew will be there in a bit."
I let out a sigh and grumble. "I told you, don't call me that. It's hella weird." This woman, Christina(or "Chrissy" for short) is another assassin in the squad I'm a part of. Think of us like a boyband but instead of playing music and making girls scream in more ways than one, we kill people for a living. You can imagine how deranged they are. I like to think I'm pretty normal compared to them though.
Walking out the room and exiting the house through the door in the middle, I see a black car pull up in front of the house. The driver's window rolls down and the face of my co-worker is revealed. She's a blonde woman with blue eyes who you can swear looks like a model you've seen before on a magazine cover. Her eyes remain half open to show off her eye shadow and makeup, her lips also curved in a permanent smile which makes her lip gloss somehow shine even more. She waves at me. With two hands. But not in the way you'd expect. You see... well... Wow, I can't even come up with a joke for this one right now. Yeah, she has four arms.