This was my doing. The body that lie on the floor - that.. that was my doing. I never felt guilty about these things, but somehow I felt this one deep in my soul. Or rather, I thought with a huff of irony wrought laughter, what was left of my soul anyway. The months and weeks and days it took to plan this were innumerable, but quite very sufferable. The credit would be payed to my account soon enough. I flicked my attention back to the corpse lying on the carpet. She was pretty but not beautiful. She was kind but in life she was alone, so utterly alone.

Would anyone miss you Abigale Marlevian?

Marlevian had been a good friend to my people. She had helped many rebels in the war, and this was the price she had payed. She had been warned by many not to be so public with her opinions, not to be so generous with her money and her donations. She had been warned, that was what I told myself.

I crouched down next to the body. There would be no blood to stain this carpet. There would be no weapon or assassin to be found. This was a tragic accident. It was a hard day for her, they would think. They would say she had a hard day but she didn’t show it. They would say that she had a history of depression even if she didn’t, which of course I knew for a fact she didn’t.

My thoughts twirled in this repetition I swore to the ancients it was all this familiarity that got to me, it changed the way In which I thought. How many times had I thought those words in the past minute? Was I prone to keep repeating sentences in different ways now? Did it make me sound as crazy as I feel?

I put two fingers to her throat. Her pulse was slow but not gone. She put on a good act. So what if the little liar wasn’t dead yet. She would be soon, Arsenic worked fast.

I will try to remember what that room looked like. A glance told me that it was a cheap inn. There was a small nightstand but no candle. The walls were thin and crudely made, and the small bed rested on nothing but a thin metal frame. The rug was truly the only decent thing in the room. It was plain but beautiful.

I could not tell what made me feel different about this assassination. I had dealt with friends like this in a much more professional manner before. It was not my first kill. I wonder what made Abigale Marlevian’s spirit wish to haunt my inner conscious.

In truth I wanted nothing more than to run away. To feel pity and anguish like a normal human. I began to wonder if I really was a human anymore.

But this was not the time to have those thoughts.

In a different world I would have felt a tear run down my cheek. In a different reality I wouldn’t have just killed a nineteen year old girl because the job paid well. In a different life I wouldn’t have become an assassin.

But as I walked away a small wet drop fell to the carpet.