We've been searching for a week now for those wretched mortals that tried to kill us. 

Before Ezra can continue his latest rant, I interject. "Can't we just give up? I mean, you did say it's been a week, and I've completely lost trace of their scent."

Listen, everything will fall into place. We need to kill them because they're a threat to us. To you. If anything, I'm trying to help you, I like it in your body; most people wouldn't because you're so stubborn, but I'm not one to give up. I still get to have some fun though, there are lots of evil people who need to be killed.

"Evil people? I thought you killed everyone, I mean Sedona and Dylan are good right?"

Of course evil people, that's how rogues are created. We rogues seek only to make more rogues, and to do that we have to kill evil people. That's what the red is indicative of. Evil. Sedona and Dylan, evil or good, need to die because they're trying to kill us. I. Am. Protecting. You. Of course, if you won't kill, I could easily kill you.

A surge of energy rushes through me. If I'm only killing people who are evil, that means I'm helping the world. This is practically a superpower. I will help the world and myself. I will stay alive.

A cluster of men in fancy suits whisper to each other in the distance. Their eyes glimmering with the colour of blood. It's them or me and I'm good, they're not. Nonetheless, I'm only one life, they're many. Killing is sickening! What am I thinking?

You're mine now.

Power courses through my veins. I run towards the crowd, Santoku knife in hand.

General purpose knife for slicing, dicing, and mincing. Perfect.

The men run for their lives. Minutes go by and I gather them up at a dead end alley. I see two men drop to the ground, sheer fear having taken their lives. The remaining men dare not scream or even drop their jaws. Fear has stricken them, much in the way that it strikes me every second of the day.

My vision blurs as tears fill my eyes. I begin to hack at the men, two by two. The taste of their blood enters my mouth and I spit it back on them. I can't believe I'm doing this, how dare I. Perhaps it'd be easier for me to just die now. I urge the knife to take my life, but a force carries through with killing the men. Their suits have been sullied, their lives have been taken, and I walk away.

The End

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