003: The Broken Hearted
003 Have you ever broken anyone’s heart?
Man, seriously?
Of course I've broken hearts. I've had women fight over me. (It got me almost beaten to death by my co-workers when the two combatants quit.) I don't try to make them that attached to me. It just happens. Must be my good looks and charm.
Okay, seriously. There was this girl. There always is. You know, the special one.
I've broken a lot of hearts. Probably hundreds, and most of the time, I never looked back. Ask anyone who's killed another person, and they should give you the same answer. Because everyone is someone's brother, or sister, son, daughter, or parent, and when a person dies it leaves a hole in those left behind.
I was cleared for solo missions when I was 16, and I was a monster. The Word came and I killed. Simple. They trained the cat to hunt, built the instinct in, and then turned it loose on unsuspecting prey. I was like the Spanish Inquisition, and nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.
It's not like I understood. Not really. We weren't allowed to be people. We were units. Tools. No heart, no soul. And how are you supposed to understand when you can't relate? I mean, we understood that we were people, but only amongst ourselves. Thinking of each other that way was our dirty, after-lights-out secret, like a 13 year old boy's skin mag.
And now we're back at the girl. The special one. Rachel.
She taught me that I had a heart. And I broke it. I broke hers and her father's and my own.
It was a deep cover mission. They sent me out into the world with an identity and a role and I played it. I started to live it. I started to live. And then the Word came. And I couldn't do it. I told her the truth. Told her that I was supposed to kill her. And the betrayal broke her heart.
So my handlers tried to do the job instead. And I didn't, couldn't stop them, because I was too fucking soulless to pull myself together and save her. And that broke my heart. But I fucking held onto it, harder than anything else I've ever held onto, because even broken, it was better than not having one.
Muse: Alec McDowell/X5-494
Fandom: Dark Angel
Word count: 383
Man, seriously?
Of course I've broken hearts. I've had women fight over me. (It got me almost beaten to death by my co-workers when the two combatants quit.) I don't try to make them that attached to me. It just happens. Must be my good looks and charm.
Okay, seriously. There was this girl. There always is. You know, the special one.
I've broken a lot of hearts. Probably hundreds, and most of the time, I never looked back. Ask anyone who's killed another person, and they should give you the same answer. Because everyone is someone's brother, or sister, son, daughter, or parent, and when a person dies it leaves a hole in those left behind.
I was cleared for solo missions when I was 16, and I was a monster. The Word came and I killed. Simple. They trained the cat to hunt, built the instinct in, and then turned it loose on unsuspecting prey. I was like the Spanish Inquisition, and nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition.
It's not like I understood. Not really. We weren't allowed to be people. We were units. Tools. No heart, no soul. And how are you supposed to understand when you can't relate? I mean, we understood that we were people, but only amongst ourselves. Thinking of each other that way was our dirty, after-lights-out secret, like a 13 year old boy's skin mag.
And now we're back at the girl. The special one. Rachel.
She taught me that I had a heart. And I broke it. I broke hers and her father's and my own.
It was a deep cover mission. They sent me out into the world with an identity and a role and I played it. I started to live it. I started to live. And then the Word came. And I couldn't do it. I told her the truth. Told her that I was supposed to kill her. And the betrayal broke her heart.
So my handlers tried to do the job instead. And I didn't, couldn't stop them, because I was too fucking soulless to pull myself together and save her. And that broke my heart. But I fucking held onto it, harder than anything else I've ever held onto, because even broken, it was better than not having one.
Muse: Alec McDowell/X5-494
Fandom: Dark Angel
Word count: 383