Kill

 

Why would anyone be motivated to kill another; except out of hate; a terrifying mixture of fear, retribution, anger, and confusion. Or at least that's what we think. How would anyone be able to stomach such a burning fire usually reserved for the hand of death himself. Unless for hate. But what about the more obvious answer; for love. They say love could brave anything, that it will stay true to itself through everything, that the red string connecting you fingers will never break, dull, or snap. So what about love. Because they say that love bridges over even death. So could someone kill for love?

Does everyone really deserve mercy? A rather trying question to be sure, because first you must think about how such mercy should extend. I might believe in mercy, only to have be delivered by a quick death; others might spare the life; there are a select few who might chop off a few limbs; and then there are the best of the best who wouldn't extend any, and kill however it pleased them at the time. However what if your subject doesn't beg for mercy, what if they want to be a hero? Should said mercy still be extended?

I read the paragraph from; Moral Support For Assassins. I suppose keeping us in the right frame of mind for killing people is important. Snorting I toss the book aside. I've never had any trouble with my job. Not once, not children, not friends, not guild members, and not even that one time when they found out the commander was spying. However there was no moral problem with that it hadn't been very clean. Stepping out of the library I was on guard, ready for anything. We were all intensely loyal to each other here, and I hadn't been doing anything traitorous lately. Still it rarely hurt to be on guard.

Heading over to a place to train in peace; what a funny word. Peace, there was never any peace, and yet the tiny moments seemed to be more peaceful than the tension thick air when people weren't going at each others throats. Suddenly someone reached out to grab my shoulder, flicking out my knife from my sleeve there was a thick red substance pouring onto the floor. Not enough to kill or even seriously injure, but enough to make it a mess to clean up. The person shrugged, they honestly should have known better. Well I was waiting for them to speak, finally they did "Commander Axn is requesting your presence." Wiping the blood off my knife, and stowing it away I considered his words for only a second.

I nod my head, and swiftly found my way to his office. Stopping a little off from his desk I slouched slightly. It wasn't the military even if the discipline was harsher, and when you got orders...well you followed them. Still I was of equal rank, it was a different position, but in theory my being here was more an act of courtesy. He should have come and gotten me himself. Still I thought with a slight internal smile, only him.

He spoke "Nanym Rendit." Was all he said.

I nod my head, I didn't need to know why. It might be political, it might be monetary, or it might even just be a personal grudge. Him asking was enough to make me do it without question, and incidentally when Nanym begged for mercy I didn't give it. Without question, without mercy, without conditions; I smirked, isn't that what love is?