And another one fell. Making me laugh a cold, hard, desperate laugh. A pleading chuckle. To everyone else, it seemed like I was being a cold hearted machine. Which is what I am, what I've trained to be. Block out pain. Block out thoughts. Block out love. The three rules. The three laws that define the very last one of us. The people like us, not the ordinary, innocent citizens we murder for disobedience. For ignoring the law. And we are the ones sent in to dispose of them.

And there is no way out...

And there never, ever will be...

If only the citizens who hate us, saw the raw pain in our eyes every time we killed. Every time we killed. Every time.

Eva. Eva was taken young from here home, or at least what was left of it was the army, the military was finished with it. Survivors were either shot, jailed, or taken to the camps. Execution was the best to happen to you if you were lucky. Jail was the worst. You could be put into the arena for the cities entertainment. Kill or be killed. And the camps? Well that could really go either way. Suicide, destruction of yourself, destruction of others, or losing everything. They were the common ones. And Eva was sent to the camps as a kid as young as 7.

What is she like now? Will she still be the same as from when she went in? Will she ever see anyone she knew from her hometown again? Or has she truly lost everything?

This is Eva's story. This is my story.