I finally finished a story I was writing, so yay! Anyway I hope you like it, it is a whole lot darker than the rest of my stories, also the main character is gonna be in Generation Super IV so look out for that. So let’s begin:
The True Me
I am a murderer. I am an assassin. I am a mercenary. I am the shady looking figure you see with the hood of her black jumper covering her face and has her hands in her pockets.
I am pleasant. I am bubbly. I am happy-go-lucky. I am the neighbour who gives you freshly baked cake with a warm smile in a long sky blue dress.
I am the Jekyll and Hyde of the 21st Century. The only issue is: I don’t know which one of me is real and which is the mask.
I am Marianna Viveca, and this, is my story.
I look at my reflection, staring straight at my blood-red eyes, my eyes are famous, on every Police’s Most Wanted list. The eyes of the ‘Russian Diablo’, which is what the Spanish call me, it has quite a ring to it no?
I sigh, I have not been assigned any missions of late, so today Jekyll is host, I change into my long flowing blue dress and go into the kitchen. I smile at the sunshine and open the window. The morning breeze drifts in. I feel like singing but instead I go to the cupboard and pull out a box of Cereal make my morning meal.
After breakfast, I bake some biscuits, the smell fills the house. I take them out and half the finished amount then leave the house and head to my neighbours to deliver the biscuits.
I knock on the door and the man of the house opens the door, “Ah the Russian Princess returns,” says Mr Williamson.
“How are you today Mr Williamson?” I ask politely, on the inside I am how you say ‘barfing’ at how cliché this must look.
“I am fine lapushka,” he replies, he speaks very little Russian but he managed to pick up a few things, for example the Russian word for ‘darling’.
“I am glad,” I say, I hand him the tub of biscuits, “Here you go, fresh as usual, is Wade home?”
Wade Williamson, the first friend I made when I came to England, we both share a secret that his parents have no idea about but mine do. He works for the organisation, the one that hires me to off the wrong people of this world.
“WADE!” Jonny calls at the top of his lungs. “The Russian Princess wishes to speak to you!”
I roll my eyes at his little nickname as I wait patiently for Wade to come down the stairs. As he emerges he pushes his father out of the way, puts on his shoes and exits the house. He is very strange, but people change once they see death. I should know.
“How are you today Marianna?” he asks. As usual he was wearing his signature black leather jacket, a grey shirt, a backpack and a pair of black jeans .
“Bored if you must know,” I say as we start walking down the street to the coffee shop. “Do you have any assignments for me?” I ask hopefully.
“I do actually,” he says with an excited smile.
We enter the coffee shop and sit in our usual corner directly underneath the security camera.
“First of all,” Wade says. “Is it Jekyll or Hyde today?”
“The dress says it all,” I say bluntly.
Wade examines my clothes, “Not a hint of black, hello Jekyll.”
I laugh, the waitress arrives and says “What would you like?”
“A latte, and a coffee,” we say in sync, our usual order.
She laughs then walks away. Wade takes off his backpack and pulls out a file, “Tonight we fly to Paris, we off a man known as Kage Ōkami.”
“Shadow Wolf,” I translate.
“Anyway, he’s a mass murderer, who happened to have offed the head of the organization’s wife.”
“Boo hoo, cry me a river,” I say.
“Are you sure you aren’t wearing black?” Wade asks curiously.
I look at my reflection in the glass, nope no black, but then I look at my plait; it was tied with a black hair tie. So Hyde is here today. I show Wade the hair tie and we carry on with our business.
The waitress returns with our drinks and we act like normal people for the rest of the time at the shop. We spend the rest of day acting ‘normal’, but when the sun went down. Hyde showed her ugly face. I changed into my black skin-tight suit, complete with a hidden camera on the chest and went to the roof of my house, I turned on my comm, “This is the Russian Diablo calling Base, I am in position.”
“I hear you R.D.,” says Wade. “I’ve got a visual.”
A helicopter flew overhead with Wade inside, and ladder is thrown down, I climb up “Ah Miss Hyde is out of her cage! How does it feel to be the daughter of the devil?” Wade asks.
“My father is not the devil,” I say as I punch him in the arm.
“It is an expression R.D.” Wade moans as he strokes his now bruised arm.
“Yes I am well aware,” I reply. “Doesn’t mean you get to insult my father.”
“All right, all right keep your hair on,” he says.
We fly in silence till we get to Paris, “I’ve located him,” Wade reports, I nod. “He is at the freaking Eiffel Tower!”
I roll my eyes, we fly over the Tower and without a parachute I jump, I land my foot on the tip of the Tower and climb down the intricate tower. He was there admiring the view.
I jumped down behind him. He turned around and gasp “The Russian Diablo!”
I feel the boost of adrenaline, the venomous feel of joy, the feel that told me Hyde was the real me. But I remained in denial, I didn’t wanna believe that I was a cold-hearted murderer.
I hold out my knife and aim at Kage Ōkami’s heart. He gasp, he was so shocked he fell back and stumbled over the side of the gate and fell, but Hyde was not finished, I leaned over the side and through my knife at his heart, it hit with a satisfying squelch, he gasped in pain as he fell to his death.
I turn on my comm and say “Base, I am done,” I sigh. “I have finally figured it out Wade.”
I hear the copter return to above me. I jump onto the ledge. I push myself against it and jump forward till I reach the other side of the tower and I jump into the open door of the copter in front of me. Wade catches me and smiles.
“What were you saying?” he asks quietly as we head home.
“Wade I am sorry,” I say. “I have figured out the truth.”
He nods solemnly “Hyde is the real you, I’ve always known. You were never normal no one kills the way you do. With that adrenaline, with that blood lust, with that glint your eye.”
I nod from acceptance. I smile, then I punch him “If you knew why didn’t you just tell me you jerk!”
“Hey,” he moans. “Your story is all about self-acceptance, you can’t have the tech guy telling you without you officially believing it.”
I punch him again, simply for breaking the fourth-wall .
“You know what,” I say. “Thanks.”
He smiles back, “Let’s just go home, I hear that my red-eyed neighbour brought biscuits to our house this morning.”
I laugh, I finally know who I am.
My name is Marianna Viveca.
I am a murderer. I am an assassin. I am a mercenary. I am the cold-hearted monster who hides in the shadows.
I am the Russian Diablo.
And when people hear my name they quiver with fear. Because if they hear my name and if they know they are my target. They know to ready their graves.