I never really owned my life. Always being used by someone. This man was odd. I think he’s wrong, good people can’t be murderers. Now I’m a part of it, because of money. He just walked in and bought me from my guild. He wanted me to join a group of vigilantes but it’s probably just another group of mercenaries.

  He sits in a metal chair across from me. Four others sit around us.

  To my right sat a sixteen year old. A happy looking kid with badly bruised eyes and a smile that battles it.

  “Hello, you look like the only other kid here besides me. I hope we can become friends. What’s your name?” the boy asked.

  “I don’t want anything to do with you, stop talking to me,” I said harshly.

  “Killer!” the man shouted.

  I glared at him. He looks like an old cop who’s still chasing the good old days.

  The young man in all black caught my gaze. He looked at me as I glared at the old man and his eyes sent chills down my spine. His gaze made me want to run.

  “Sorry, sir,” I said sadly.

  “Don’t call me sir and apologize to John,” the man said as he sat upright in his chair.

  The young man in all black gazed at me again. I don’t know why, but all of my aggression left my body when he looked in my direction.

  “I’m sorry, John,” I said as I looked at the ground.

  He put his hand on my shoulder, looking at me with concerned eyes.

  “I don’t care man, and don’t feel bad about it because no one cares. And I heard your name is Killer. That’s pretty badass dude.”

  His words made me question why I was rude to him.

  “Since everybody is here now, go around and introduce yourselves,” the man in the trench coat said loudly.

  The eighteen year old right next to him cleared his throat. He had black, messy hair and his eyes looked sunken and hollow.

  “My name is Chris, and I just want to kill criminals,” he said quickly before sitting back down.

  John stood up next.

  “Wow, I can’t beat that, but my goal is to save the innocent from criminals and to make this city safe,” he said.

  His eyes lit up as he spoke, his tone was inspiring. I stood up next.

  “I don’t want to be here, I was just bought so I had no other option then being here,” I said.

  John and Chris stood up aggressively.

  “What…you bought him. What is wrong with you? You said this was a group of vigilantes not criminals!” John yelled.

  He sounded betrayed while he accused the man. John and Chris looked angry, for me. No one has ever stood up for me, it’s weird that these people I don’t even know are willing to fight for me.

  The man postured defensively, then cleared his throat.

  “No, he was a part of the assassins guild, trust me this is much better. So all of you sit down, we're not done yet,” the man said.

  Everyone sat back down less angered. To my left I witnessed the embodiment of sadness in human form. He hid behind a shallow smile. He spoke up nervously.

  “I’m Nathan, and I don’t know what my purpose is anymore. I used to push myself to get stronger so I could save people, but I don’t know anymore,” he said.

  His figure was lean, yet strong. He wore a sweatshirt and sweatpants to hide it. The young man in all black stood up last.

  “Hi, I’m Vigil and I love saving people and becoming stronger so I can save more and more people,” he said with a newfound demeanor.

  His charisma made me question what I originally thought of him, as if my prior thoughts were all a lie. The man stood up slowly.

  “That was very interesting. My name is Victor. I want all of you to build each other up and become the strongest team of vigilantes you can be,” Victor said proudly.

  We all looked at one another. John looked ecstatic and ran over to the corner of the facility with bunk beds and jumped on one of the bottom bunks. Victor got up and walked out of the facility to take a call.

  “This one's mine,” John yelled as he pointed at a bottom bunk.

  “I wanted that one, we’re rolling for it John,” Nathan said before jumping out of his chair and running over the beds to confront John.

  Chris faced me.

  “Isn’t he like twenty-two years old,” Chris commented.

  Vigil got up and went over to the punching bags.

  “We’re supposed to kill, but they obviously see it as a game. They’re both weak and are going to get themselves killed,” I said as I glared at them wrestling for a bunk.

  “Hey Killer, come help me claim this bunk from Nathan,” John said playfully while rolling with Nathan.

  My eyes widened. I’ve never been invited to anything before. John wasn’t putting on a facade. I got up as Chris sat there by himself. I approached Nathan and John as they were wrestling.

  “Do you guys know who I am? John, do you really want to mess with the strongest here?” I joked.

  “Come get me, because I’m truly the strongest haha,” John exclaimed.

  After John submitted me around ten times we all took showers. The facility was so high quality there were hot showers. I let the hot water trickle down my body, maybe I deserved it.

  As I got out of the shower I witnessed Vigil, still training, as I walked to my bunk. He trained with an intense ferocity, he had such purpose behind his punches.

  I laid down on the bunk above Chris. It was almost time for bed and I took everything in about the day. Victor changed my life and these people he introduced me too seem like they’ll stick around for a while. Before I shut my eyes I watched Vigil shut the lights off and leave the facility.

  “Hey Killer, hey Killer,” I heard a whisper.

  “What?”

  “Do you want to go on a run with me?” Chris whispered.

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  “Sure.”

  As I laced my shoes, John and Nathan laughed by the door. I’d rather run with them, not Chris. My legs moved to what I felt I wanted.

  “John, can I run with you guys?” I asked.

  “Absolutely, and invite Chris, but maybe not Vigil, he's still asleep,” he responded.

  I smiled and walked over to Chris.

  “Hey Chris, I’m going to run with John and Nathan. You should come with,” I offered.

  Chris just sighed and shook his head. He got up and walked outside quickly. Then John and Nathan walked over to me.

  “Let’s go,” John said.

  The whole time we ran we were talking. In total it was about five miles. On the last mile John started falling out, and obviously Nathan and I had to make fun of him for it. But as we ran around the city I kept noticing glimpses of someone a few blocks away always turning his head towards us as he ran. Something felt off about the figure and I felt uneasy near the end of the run.

  As we returned to the facility I noticed Chris was already back and showering while Vigil was still asleep in his bunk. I took a shower and changed right before Victor entered the facility.

  “Killer and Chris get outside, I have a mission for you two,” Victor demanded.

  Chris and I got off our beds and followed Victor outside.

  “Both of you will work together on this, tonight you will meet at the intersection of 53rd street and Cresthaven Avenue. I don’t care when you do this mission, but it will be done tonight. You will save every person in the house with the house number 4453. These sex traffickers have at least three victims trapped inside the house. Your objective is to save those victims by any means necessary,” Victor explained.

  “How many stories is the house?” Chris asked.

  “Two. Any more questions?”

  “Do you have any weapons for us to use?” I asked.

  “Yes, let me show you.”

  “I have my own,” Chris said before walking away.

  Victor led me back inside and over to the basement door. He unlocked it and I followed him down the cold, concrete stairs. In the middle of the room there was a massive metal table displaying a large assortment of weapons. Surrounding the table were wall lockers with all of our names imprinted on the top right of the metal doors. I smiled thinking about how much Victor prepared this place for us.

  “Why are there no guns? Are they in the wall lockers?” I asked.

  “I’m not going to supply any of you with guns, I know all of you have the ability to save people without the use of guns. Even if I did have guns, the majority of you’d guys prefer not to use them.”

  I nodded in agreement.

  “Come, check out your uniform.”

  He led me to the locker with my name engraved on it and opened it. Victor took my uniform off of the hanger.

  The uniform was a sleek black color. The top looked very slim with a tough texture. It was fitted with many pockets meant to house daggers and other throwable weapons. The bottom just looked like a normal pair of pitch black jeans. Victor rummaged through the locker and pulled out a black gaiter with some black boots.

  “What do you think?” Victor asked.

  “I mean, do I really deserve all of this? I am nothing special,” I said sadly.

  Victor sighed.

  “I understand that the guild treated you as if you didn’t matter and raised you as a murderer. But you are special and I see you for who you really are. You are one of us and every one of us has your back,” he said as he put my uniform away.

  I put out my hand to meet his.

  “Thank you,” I said happily as we shook hands.

  Later that night Chris and I stood on a rooftop of an apartment near the house.

  “So, your weapon of choice is throwing knives? But what do you have for close quarters?” Chris asked through his gaiter with his voice muffled.

  “I’m going to challenge myself to just use my fists in close combat. I don’t really need anything else.”

  He glared at me. His eyes cut through mine.

  “Do you understand how stupid you sound, or are you just arrogant? Actually I don’t really give a shit if you die so go and do something stupid. See if I care…Killer, your name would be pretty lackluster if you died going out on your first mission,” Chris said coldly.

  “I think it would be better if you would just shut the fuck up.”

  “That makes two of us. If you end up in trouble I want you to know I’m not saving you just because you’re weak.”

  He starts moving towards the house quickly as an attempt to leave me behind. I sprint from rooftop to rooftop to keep up. He has a very impressive endurance which is hard to keep up with. No matter if he’s sprinting or running for a long period of time his speed never wavers.

  Chris stopped and stood on the rooftop right next to the house. I stopped right behind him.

  “You go in the front door and I’ll go in through the cellar,” I said while trying to still catch my breath.

  Chris nodded, we snuck down to the house. He approached the front then we split off. It reeked of piss and garbage. Holes littered the rotting walls.

  I heard the front door get kicked in and I knew it was time. I throw the cellar doors open and run down the cold, concrete basement.

  The room opened up and against the wall victims were lined up against the wall. Chained up, they were scared. A large man stood over them, he looked at me with a feral grin.

  I threw a knife at his shooting hand. The pistol dropped, I charged him. I attempted to tackle him, but he was too large. He grabbed my head and threw me into the nearby wall. I slowly got up as he tried pulling the knife out of his hand.

  I heard heavy stomping on the floor above as I approached him. My fists and shoulders raised. I started throwing punches, no reaction. I sent a barrage of punches to his stomach, he reacted by heavily guarding his body with his arms. His head was wide open, so I threw reckless hooks. No matter how many punches I landed, he was unphased.

  He threw a heavy punch right on my chin.

  I thought about what Chris said as I collapsed. I am a failure and no one will save me. I fell looking up at this grotesque beast ready to maul me. The murderous intent in his eyes looked at me as if I were his prey. He suddenly looked up as a figure flew down the stairs.

  Chris was covered in blood from head to toe. It reminded me of my mother, her smell, that day. My mother’s body, the scent of iron. My father killed her, for having me. I watched him shoot her several times. I watched my mother get killed, for wanting to feel loved. I cried, as I sat in a pool of her blood. Chris looked like her after she was shot.

  Chris looked at me, then at the victims. An anger surged through his eyes as he honed in on the man.

  Chris sprinted at him, knives in both hands. The man threw a punch, Chris slid under it, digging his right knife into the man’s thigh. He pulled his right knife out, stabbing both knives into the man's neck, he wretched them until he fell to the ground.

  Chris pulled his knives out of the lifeless man. They overflowed the sheathes with blood. Chris’ pupils were very large in the dim light. His hair was no longer black, but dyed in blood. His face had a disturbing smile as he breathed heavily. Chris rummaged through the man’s pockets and found a phone. He threw the phone to me.

  “Call the police, and then hand the phone to one of them,” Chris said.

  He started unlocking their cuffs with a key he found on the man.

  “Are any of you injured?”

  “No, we’re not injured,” one of the girls said.

  Chris approached me.

  “Are you okay?” Chris said softly. “Are you injured?”

  “No.”

  “I’m glad, I was afraid you were hurt really badly when I got down here. After you’re done calling the police we need to leave quickly,” Chris said.

  When we returned to the facility everyone was in their beds asleep. Victor sat in a metal chair in the corner of the room, observing us. As he stood an expression of fear plagued his face.

  “Is that your blood?” Victor asked out of concern “Tell me what happened, now.”

  He spoke loudly, waking up the others who were asleep.

  “Yeah, everything went fine, but Killer choked up and almost got himself killed. I don’t think he’s ready for this and I don’t need a dumbass fourteen year old kid to watch over,” Chris said harshly.

  Victor widened his eyes in shock. I looked down in disappointment in myself before I heard footsteps approaching me from behind.

  “Killer,” Victor said. “Do you really think you’re ready for this?”

  My chest tightened. I looked around at everything I could lose if I mess up.

  John wrapped his arm around me.

  “Don’t worry Killer, we’ll train and you’ll be ready for next time, don’t stress about it,”

  Chris scoffed and walked off while Victor smiled.

  “Don’t worry Victor, we’ve got this,” John said happily.

  “Alright John, I trust you to help Killer get back on his feet,” Victor ended with a sigh of relief.

  I’ve never done good things, I’m not a good person. Does someone like me really deserve this happiness?