It doesn't matter what happens to my body, I will heal. It is the deep wounds inside that won't go away. It doesn't matter what I do- that pain will never, ever go away. You can shoot me, and I will be fine in minutes. That is why I support private medicare.
I wandered for years, maybe decades, alone in the cold. I was the top of the food chain. Nothin' has changed- except what I kill, and why I do it.
God, I don't even know how old I am. Fuck, I don't even know my whole name. I'm like Madonna or Sting.
The rage is still there. The blood lust and the rise I get when I lose control. Only two things stop the rage - booze and blood. When the rage takes over, there hasn't been a man alive I haven't been able to kill. Made a pretty good livin' doing it for a while.
I have been told that I was a weapon, created by the government to be an unstoppable agent. It sounds corny, but its true. I was leased out to foreign governments by the "nice" government. I would do the work that normal assasins couldn't do. Wimps.
I didn't like takin' orders so I left. I think. I remember my last assignment- and I didn't think it was the right thing to do, no matter what the boss man said. I didn't want to kill her, no matter what they said she did. I guess I just didn't see the bigger picture. I was a lousy soldier anyway.
Really, all these years later, the biggest problem I have is going through airport security. That and the fact that I have a few enemies whose powers make me pretty much useless. When he ripped out my bones, he did it out of spite. He thought he was making me pure of their meddling. He was just making my power more painful. Healing bones sucks.
And getting it back really hurt. A lot. Asshole.
The rush of killin' has faded considerably, but the satisfaction of a rightful execution still takes over from time to time. I don't care what Chuck says- I haven't killed anyone who didn't have it comin'
It's too bad I fucked it all up, because I need him. He was the only one who could clean up what is lost forever in this jumbled mess inside my head. When he isn't around, I just turn to beers and messin' with people who think they know better. I never really hurt 'em all that bad, just enough to make 'em think twice about being drunken oafs again. Made a fair livin' doing that too.
God damn that crazy bird. Women always make men do stupid things. But, I wasn't the only one who was an idiot. If only Scott could have let it go - he left us with no choice, really. She made her choice, and man, she didn't like having that decision challenged. He had his chance, and even though he was the perfect gentlemen, she chose me. Girls love the bad boy.
Of course, I didn't expect I would have to kill him. I figured he was just a pansy with a broken heart. Turns out he wasn't such a pussy after all - if he had shown that confidence before, maybe she wouldn't have left him. I have to admit, it was tough fighting a guy who was hittin' me just by lookin' at me. Must have been tough to be in love when you couldn't even look into her eyes. I should write those cheezy cards that boys buy for girls who like to get crap.
Of course, Scott wouldn't have been able to kill her when the chips were down. Yeah, that's right, I had to kill her too. Sure, I probably saved the universe, but what a waste of such a great piece of ass. Chuck couldn't control her; she couldn't control her. Nobody else had the stones to do it. I abused the trust we had - told her it would be alright. I told her that I could make her pain and torment go away. Killin' someone you love is even harder when you know that you have to do it. When I killed her I knew my life was over, but would never end. How fucked up is that?
The deepest cuts never heal. That one is never going away. Some power- trapped in my an ageless body with a thousand souls on mine. Will someone give me a beer?
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