WHAT AM I?

  WHAT AM I?

  "Please have mercy!!"

  "what is mercy?"

  CRRT! SHING! A thud. He is dead. I move on. The target's bodyguards' blood soaking my body drips onto the ground creating a disturbingly, soothing melody as I ponder and wait for my next orders.

  Demon is what I have been called. I suppose I am one. Warm human flesh fused and welded together with cold, hard steel. Spider-like arms extruding out of my left leg. A power saw and a metal tentacle extending out of my right hip. A demonic foot. Human-like arms that shift in ways thought impossible, revealing an oversized machinegun in my right, still hot and smoking from the bloodbath that was my fight with the bodyguards.

  The blood has dried off now.

  And two claw/sword like blades out of my left. A wicked looking, metallic scorpian tail with an incredibly strong and fast working poison on the tail's blade. An armor mask shattered around my right eye, adding to the horror. I suppose I am a demon to my targets.

  I would be lying if I said I felt any remorse. I have no emotions. The ability to lie is gone from as well.

  "what am i?"

  I have asked my self that very question countless times before, unable to find the answer. A human turned machine? Some type of mutant? A demon or devil as my targets, call me before I end their lives? Perfection is what my employers/creators call me. That is incorrect for I to have my faults whatever they may be. A Hunter merely enjoying the hunt? No, that is incorrect as well, for I have no emotions.

  I ponder these things as I make my way to my next target. Killing hoards after hoards of bodyguards.

  I have reached the target.

  I disarm him.

  I wound him critically.

  As I prepare the final blow, he yells out

  "Who..no..WHAT ARE YOU!!?"

  I pause. Why am I stopping? I don't have to give him an answer. But something in me complies me to.

'what am i?'

  I think back to my previous thoughts. How easy it was to kill the bodyguards. I see the fear in the target's eyes as he stares at my poison tipped tail blade with complete terror. I remember how pathetically easy it was to kill all my targets. The man's eyes hold the same emotion that all others hold when they come in contact with me. I think my employers are afraid of me for their eyes hold the same emotion when they see me. I give him his request.

  "what am i, you ask?" It comes to me. Then and there, I know the answer.

  "i don't know." I kill him. A thud. He is dead. I move on. I think back to my answer. I look at the corpse. No blood. No DNA. No evidence. Nothing. A perfect kill, like all my previous targets. Nothing except a dead body. I feel dissatisfied with my answer.

  'no, why don't i know what i am?' I profile a mission complete.

  'i don't know.' Perfect mission, as usual.

  "COME BACK TO BASE." Orders one of my employers. I think this final thought as I leave at speeds unimaginable and at levels of stealth that make the ninjas look like amateurs.

  'i still don't know the answer.'

  'what am i?'

  'who am i?'

  'i still can't give an answer.'

  'who or what am i?'

  'what is the answer?'

  "WHAT AM I?!!!"