Six Sentence Stories #17

When I was being trained, I was told, “An assassin must the grace of a dancer and the cold heart of an executioner.” Most of me took that to heart, and mind making it my dogma as I took lives. That was until I was ordered to kill, a child. A little girl who was arranged to be a bride of peace. As I was about to leap from the rooftop, I overheard a conversation that made me shiver. They payed the standard fee for a kill, in order to start the drums of war once again.


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