Danya Saespir's Journal

The Rook's Seal
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Downtime
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Till' Death Do Us Part
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Downtime

Arms, Legs, and Guts

After an entire Contract where I felt useless, I stopped studying for some time to work on a body that will keep me alive. That running bastard pissed us all off, and if Jacob never made that last shot, we would have lost. I gave it a quits there, which is awful. I should have stood by to make sure Jacob and Cassiopeia got out of things ok in case they got injured. Cowards way out, but I guess the self preservation took over.

I thought about things while starting a new running routine and revisiting the gun range. I own one since I stole it from that first bodyguard. My first “kill”. I should be disgusted with myself, but I am numb to it instead. It’s only the second Contract I’ve been on, but it seems to get deadlier and deadlier. I killed and helped kill. In most ways, it was self defence and necessary for the job, but they were still normal people. Working in healthcare means a duty to all people who need it, but what does it mean in relation to this otherworldly corruption of jobs? It seems like the people I work with are on edge the entire time, and I am starting to understand why. These Contracts demand more than our lives on the line - they are deals with the devil.

Of course, I cannot stop now, can I? No one who takes these offers is normal, so I can’t be normal either. I can try to justify that I get to murder millionaire assholes, but I won’t try. I need to gain more skills so the death is outweighed by the help I can give. I need to make use of this life. Once I am able to cure more ailments and wounds, I think I should find ways to help the community if I can keep my identity hidden.

My sensitivity to the flow of life, specifically the flow of blood and bodies, has grown a bit more. I have to be careful. When I look into the mirror, I wonder if I see red eyes looking back, or if I am imagining it. The other day, I was focusing on this sense in my body and wiggled my fingers a certain way. I threw up without warning despite my usual, strong stomach. 

Something is stirring within me, and I don’t know if I like it.

 

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