My hands are quick and trained to war. I have killed men, women, and children. I have slain creatures deemed unkillable and put the torch to entire towns. I will not deny that I have, at times, taken pleasure in these acts, especially when I am afforded some small modicum of revenge.
Other instances, I kill for the sake of necessity, and for that reason alone.
Today, June 30, the killing was done out of necessity and nothing more.
Who he was, he did not say. He refused to speak when he stumbled off the train, his eyes wild and his mouth open in a silent scream. Terror was stamped upon his face, and when we looked in the car behind him, we saw why. The car was filled with the dead. Men and women and children, their bodies butchered and strewn about the seats.
Evers Mattis stepped forward to speak with the man and had his neck snapped for his troubles. Evers’ fresh corpse hadn’t even hit the platform before the stranger was lurching toward a family of four.
It was then that I drew my Colts. In a matter of seconds, I put all twelve rounds in the man’s chest, knocking him back several feet. The stranger collapsed to his knees, blood gushing from his wounds and his mouth. Yet still, he tried to reach the living, grasping and clawing for them.
I stepped behind him, holstered my weapons, and clamped one hand over his mouth while I pinched his nostrils shut. He fought me, of course, but I held tightly to him.
It takes a long time to die that way. But I didn’t mind.
If there’s one thing I have, it’s time.
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