Not A Killer

"How comes you can't die?" I asked Jack. He had been studying me for the past few minutes, and I could tell what he wanted. I wasn't going to give it to him so I needed a distraction. Thus, my question.

"I was just born with it," He hedged. I leaned on the bar,

"What is it? Why do you have the ability?" I pressed. I watched Jack's eyes slide off somewhere over my shoulder as he thought about his answer.

"It's a type of blood magic, and it's gotten stronger as I've gotten older, and it got even stronger when I was training at--" he stopped himself. "Training at this special training ground." He finished vaguely. I tilted my head, still curious but silent. I poured the two of us another round of drinks. As I put his drink in front of him, Jack grabbed my wrist. Clearly intoxicated, he looked into my eyes, as if he was looking for something. I bit my lip, afraid of what he would say next.

"Why are you still here?" He implored, dropping my wrist and returning his attention to his drink. "Aren't you scared of me yet?"

I thought for a moment. "Should I be?" I returned, surprised at the dark turn our conversation had taken. "Well, you are surprisingly strong, and a good fighter," I thought of our earlier fight. "But you don't seem like a cold hearted killer or rapist."

Jack scoffed, polishing off his drink and mine. "Not a killer, huh?" He muttered, then he looked at me. "Now, you're right. I'm no rapist, I just like a good time now and then." His eyes roamed my torso, I resisted the urge to slap him. He continued, his eyes coming back to my face. "But I am a killer. I have killed hu-ndreds of people" his voice caught on the words. He stood up, clearing his throat. He grinned.

"You definitely owe me a kiss for that one." He said with a wink. I opened my mouth to protest, he held up his hand. "I'll put it on your tab. Good night, Brana." He walked out of the room, leaving me alone to contemplate what I'd heard.

The End

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