⊱ 3 ⊰

Three morning shifts in a row? Seriously?" Kayne slumped back into his chair, his voice brimming with disappointment that he missed out on yet another opportunity to have a long weekend away at a private resort with his girlfriend.

"Well, at least I've got your back," I chortled, "and don't speak too loud if you want Sister Judith to march in and give you a whole dressing down session now."

Kayne was the Enrolled Nurse (EN) that I had been working for with for the longest time. Whenever it came to rostering, he'd try to match his offdays with mine just so that we could have a higher chance of working on the same shifts together. I didn't mind it at all—the man was capable and we could always leave on time, getting our tasks done and not leaving more work for the oncoming shift's staff.

We were chatting blithely in breakroom during our dinner break, which was about an hour later than usual today due to some unforeseen rescheduling of appointments for our patients. Kayne was exhausted, and he was really looking forward to his offday tomorrow.

On the other hand, I was more concerned how I still had tasks to do after work, my side hustle, if you'd call it that.

The more I ruminated on the thought of Lillian guiding the night hunts, the more my fists trembled with rage.

In all honesty, I deserved thay position more than she did. With the powers I had, even I could kill her if I wished.

But my bloodlust wasn't that intense.

Withering ligules...

I shut my eyes and all I could see was crimson and agony written all over the faces of my victims.

Open.

The flower, crumbled to dust from lack of nurturing and care.

Just like how my parents abandoned me.

"Yo, I've been calling you for the last five minutes, Yuka..." Kayne waved his palms in front of me and snapped me out of my daze.

"Oh?"

"Geez, what are you daydreaming about?"

Killing.

"We've got a few nightshifts together once we come back from offday, remember to bring a jacket—" His words trailed off into silence; a perpetual ringing silence in my ears.

As if I could tell anyone who I really was. They would never accept me.

I was ever so consumed by my thoughts, wallowing in a dark, bottomless pit of constant overthinking and sadness.

I watched, aghast, as the dandelion plant by the window crumbled. Its seeds barely had the chance to sail in the wind, before my negative energy penetrated into the atmosphere and wilt it to the ground. My helpless, outstretched palm grasped towards it in vain, only to be clenched back into a shaking fist of hatred for myself.

I hated who I was. I didn't deserve to be loved, given how many lives of the turners I had taken with my own hands.

Trust. Love. And hope.

These words had long been buried by the blizzard and frozen inside my heart.

"Yukaaaaa..."

I held my hand against my head and rubbed my temples in a circular motion. "Sorry, I'm feeling a little tired..."

Lies.

The thing I was best at spewing since young. Anything but the truth to conceal my true emotions. Sometimes things like these are better kept hidden, buried beneath the depths of my heart rather than stringed into sentences that not everyone can comprehend.

I tried to avoid thinking about killing and work for awhile. It was an absolute brain drain and a toll on my mental health.

The drizzle that pattered against the glass was followed by a downpour. I had seen way too many nights like this. In fact, perhaps the sky could better represent my emotions than how I was capable of expressing myself.

I was lonely.

Sure I had suitors in the past, but all of them turned out to be unrecycable trash, mismatched personalities and expectations, and in the end, all I was left with was a heart that was constantly searching for better.

I got hurt along the way, I went through many emotional rollercoasters, and so did I get mocked by my friends for wanting to chase after guys at times.

Well, at least chasing guys for love beat chasing guys to kill them.

I couldn't help but always ruminate about how guys who fell for me would eventually grow bored of me with time, take me for granted, find someone better, or replace me with someone more refreshing and interesting. It was a lingering thought that wouldn't leave my mind, and it bothered me a lot that I was constantly worried how I was never good enough for anyone, no matter how hard I tried, and no matter how much effort I'd put in.

"Yuka, why are you crying?"

Oh. My tears fell? I must've been lost in thought for too long.

"I'm probably just tired..." I yawned pretentiously. In the end, my entire existence was just like an onion encased with layers of lies protecting the very core — my heart, and my true emotions.

Sometimes I wish I wasn't so much of an overthinker. Other times I wished love would cement the broken pieces of insecurities that tore my sanity apart. But who was I to control the people around me and how'd they react to me?

In the end, when I'm much older, I'd just end up lonely like one of my patients anyway. Abandoned by their children, if I even get married and have any, severed ties, with a struggling will to survive knowing that no one is there for you other than the healthcare professionals that are doing their obligatory jobs for wages that don't even pay enough for the amount of shit they're put through.

I inhaled the steam from my hot cup of caramel latte. It rejuvenated my senses, and even if for a fleeting moment, I felt the warmth inside me.

I wished there was someone to love me for who I was.

The monster inside me. And the facade I put up at work.

After knocking off from work, there was no time to waste. I pulled my scrubs off and threw myself into a cold shower. The chill that engulfed me erased all my thoughts from earlier—I needed to keep myself fresh to continue my assassinations at night.

The person in the mirror was so different from the person I knew I was.

A face full of foundation, flaws concealed, eyeshadow and eyeliner on fleek, fake eyelashes, and well—my eyes could change colour on their own when I became that demon, so there was no need for contact lens.

Contour, blood red lips and a soft peach blush? Check.

This wasn't me, or at least, not the version of me I wanted to be.

I sighed as I threw the hood over my head and slid out of my loft apartment. It was raining outside, perfect to silence the screams of the turned when I got rid of them tonight.

For once, I could taste the freedom of handling the killings without contacting my higher ups. I blended swiftly into the crowd of the night. As usual, that repugnant smell of smoke wafted through the alleys and I made my way through swiftly, following the smell of my target.

Further south. About 300 yards.

I licked my lips.

One, two, three....

Three targets? Splendid.

This was a popular drug trafficking district, and getting these turners into an obscure corner and killing them without anyone noticing would definitely be challenging. 

But I love challenges. Outside of work.

I decided to take the parkour route around the buildings and jumped from ladder to ladder on the walls of buildings, balcony to balcony, and finally slipped down a lampost to where my targets had a rendezvous.

There was no one else around, thankfully, nor did I sense any incoming presence within a 50 metre radius. I could definitely kill these three in 30 seconds.

No, make that 13.

The three of them darted their gaze in my direction when they noticed me approaching them.

"Hey, what's a young woman like you doing out here all by yourself in the middle of the night—"

Slash.

I slit the first's throat the moment I sensed his breathing pattern changing, and before he could even turn.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?!"

Stab.

Right through the eyeballs. Stop looking at me you lecherous fuckface of a turner.

"D-demon!!!"

Thrust.

Straight through the chest. 3.7cm away from the apex of the heart. Right where the aorta and the pulmonary artery overlapped in this man's heart.

Perish in the cold of the night.

Before the disease could emanate into the atmosphere, I bit all of them and threw the hood over my head again.

Licking my lips clean of the crimson red blood stains, I turned around, only to notice that in my excitement, I had clean forgotten that there was a stalker on my trail lately.

The one whomst mother became a turner. The one I murdered.

"You...you again..." he stuttered as our eyes met once more.

How could I have been so careless?

I fled the scene as quickly as I could, jumping across buildings and climbing down the waterpipe back to my apartment.

Good fucking lord, I seriously needed him to get off my tail.

But what had I to fear? There was no way he knew who I was at work, right? It was definitely a mere coincidence that he walked past me in the park near the hospital the other day too, right?

Ugh.

If the higher ups found out that a random dude was following me on my killings, I'd be in deep shit. Heck, they might even get me executed in order to protect the rest of their asses from being discovered by the government.

But how did he slip so close without me even sensing his presence? Just who the hell was he?

I slumped into the hot bathwater and sighed heavily. This job was seriously mentally exhausting. Yet, it was a job I couldn't deny.

Simply because it was my reason to live.