The Spy Who Killed His Love

Obsession is a dangerous thing.

How could I be so quiet, yet be the heart of Russia? Silence was interrupted by the sound of the gentle pitter-patter of the rain and the smooth purring of car engine, creating a haunting lullaby that spun across the streets.

   Novasibirsk night-life buzzed, lights glistened from the towering buildings; but the spirit of the city was dampened by the emptiness of the roads. Along one particularly desolate street, where no lamps shone through the curtains and no voices were heard through the walls, a lone bar stood. 

   Made from old, rickety wood, the bar looked as if it had been transported from the wild west. The doors creaked. The windows groaned. However, the sound that was missing was the sound of people. 

                                                    *     *    *    

He must feel my pain, he must know how it is. Savage thoughts whirled around the inside of my head, pulsating against my skull. Greedily, I took a long swig of the pure Russian vodka I had ordered moments before. Numbing the brutal thoughts, I tasted it's bitter-sweet power. Although my musings were momentarily halted, I knew that hey would never leave my mind until he was gone. 

   As I finished my drink and turned to leave, my body refused to act as my brain told it. An old childhood friend stood at the entrance of the empty bar. An old childhood friend that had haunted my life, that had been he centre of my violent thoughts. He went my the John Smith but I knew him as Jason Sumeki. We gazed icily at each other for several minutes as we took in the unusual scene that we had sworn that would never happen.

   As my body re-started, Jason tried to surreptitiously retrieve his gun from his pocket; unfortunately for him, I taught him how to do that. When he finally realised that I knew what h was doing, he resulted to traditional methods - a full on fist fight. 

   Lunging at me from across the table, Jason held my gaze, giving me a look of knowing. He understood my plan was to have him dispatched so I could have the world at my feet. Arms flailing, legs thrashing and eyesight blurring, we tumbled around the bar. 

   Abruptly, I made a decision to mention a dormant memory, one that pained us both, one that we vowed never to speak of again.

   It was then I said her name "Marissa Rage". 

It was then I saw the wall he built around himself crumble, the fatal flaw of Jason Sumeki.

                                              *    *    * 

When the words left his lips, I knew what was coming next. Memories swam around my head. Reminders rapped against my eyelids. Frightened, I was sucked into the black hole of my past.

 (10 years ago)

    I was slumped in my chair, bored out of my mind. Mr McDud was the worst lecturer in the history of teachers. All I thought was that today couldn't get any worse, that it had to get better from here. 

   My lesson changed and I trudged to my seat, only to find the most stunning girl sat there. I was completely speechless. Heart hammering in my chest, I noticed all the tiny details that made her beautiful. 

   Her rich hair was jet black and tinged blue, as if it were sewn from the threads of night. Her glimmering eyes were the strangest shade of ochre, like a forest on the verge of autumn. Her flawless skin was pale and polished, as if she were a delicate porcelain doll. 

   I didn't even know her, yet I was completely and utterly in love with her. 

For a month I secretly loved her, keeping all emotion to myself. However, after that it became an obsession. I couldn't get my head around the thought that what I was doing was creepy. I followed her home, I'd wait outside her classrooms just to catch a glimpse of her. Fortunately, she never saw me, but in the back of my mind, subconsciously, I wanted her to see me and fall instantly in love. Like I had.

   Things got bad when I saw her in the corridor with my mate Eric Borvirska, all over her. My last thought before jealousy clouded my rational thinking was 'I need mental help', then I was taken over by emotion. Reacting on instinct, I launched myself at Erik, knocking him over.

   Arms flailed, legs thrashed and eyesight blurred we tumbled around on the floor. My girl just stood and stared. Anger pulsed through my blood, a metallic taste filled my mouth as I saw her lip-gloss had smudged and her school blouse hanging open. 

   Having no idea what I was doing, I transferred my emotion to her. I flung myself at her. I didn't know who I was, I didn't know where I was. All I knew was that I was furious, burning with anger at my girl for not choosing me. 

   Like a tiger, I pounced on her, lifted her back up by that gorgeous hair of hers and dragged her to the bathrooms. By then she was hanging limp and unconscious. Gently, so gently, I laid one perfect kiss on her lips and breathed in her ear "I love you". Then delicately, I placed her head in in the sink and filled it with water. She died painlessly in my arms. 

   I suddenly came to my senses and stared, horrified, at what I'd done. I looked over to the doorway, where Erik now stood, panting. I realised that he loved this girl, but in the right way and what I had done had cut him deep. Staring him straight in the eye, I made him vow never to speak of this excruciating memory for that good of both of us.

   Three ears later, I became a secret agent, intent on killing every criminal there was, trying to forget the criminal in me. I thought that by slaughtering the evil minded, I would slaughter the evil I had committed. I was wrong.

No-one could ever take away what I'd done.

I'd killed Marissa Rage.