The night was cloaked in silence. Everyone was sound asleep.
"Help..." a voice cried in desperation, echoing along the road. It sounded like someone was fleeing. "Help me, please..." the voice trembled with fear and desperation.
Only the moon bore witness to everything that was happening. She ran, then walked, then ran again—searching, hoping to find a house, a person, anything in the middle of the night.
Sweat and tears mixed on her face as she ran toward the forest road.
"Help!" She cried louder, praying that someone—anyone—would hear her.
Then came the sound of laughter behind her. They were following her.
She didn't dare look back, but she gathered what little strength she had left. Her body was aching, bruised, and wounded from running, from escaping people who had harmed her for no reason.
Her entire body trembled in fear, but she didn't stop. She forced herself to keep running.
My God, please help me. I'm not ready to die yet... she pleaded in her thoughts.
The laughter of the men chasing her grew louder. Then—darkness. She didn't remember what happened next. She just woke up, her hands tied together.
She looked around frantically, desperate for someone—anyone—to help her. Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. Her leg went numb. Still, she forced herself to move.
Another shot echoed. She was terrified a stray bullet would hit her. Then her right arm went numb. Blood flowed down it, the moonlight revealing the wound.
She couldn't speak. Panic gripped her. Her legs gave out, and she collapsed. She only then realized she'd been shot.
A third gunshot.
She felt the bullet pierce her stomach. She fell onto the cold, cemented road, blood pouring from her wounds. Her breathing was shallow and ragged.
Is this it? Will this be my grave? Am I really going to die here? She wondered, tears spilling down her cheeks.
"Is she dead?" she heard a voice ask.
"She's still breathing," another replied. Then a man kicked the bullet wound on her leg. She screamed in pain.
"People like you are hard to kill—like weeds," one of them sneered. He yanked her hair.
"You'll pay for this," she whispered through gritted teeth, refusing to give in to death.
He gave her a mocking smile. "Give me a gun," he said to his companion.
The other man laughed as he handed it over. She felt the barrel press against her temple.
"I—I will never forgive you," she murmured. Her voice was low, filled with rage at the strangers who wanted her dead.
"Any last words, sweetheart?" the man said casually, ignoring her.
She didn't reply. She only felt the cold metal against her head before the gun went off.
The chaos faded into silence.
I'll return. "I will return..." she repeated in her mind as her body grew heavier.
*********
"Let's go. Mission accomplished," one of the men said after pulling the trigger.
"Sister? What did you do to my sister?" cried a young woman they had captured earlier.
A man signaled for her release. She rushed to the lifeless body on the road.
"Sister!" she screamed, cradling her sister's body.
"You'll be joining her soon," one of the masked men said as he pointed a gun at her.
"What did we ever do to you?" She sobbed.
"Oh? You don't know?" The man smirked, scratching his head. "Well, you'll die anyway, so I'll tell you."
"Your parents ordered your execution."
She froze, stunned by what she'd just heard. Tears streamed down her face.
"Why? Why?" she kept asking, her voice breaking.
"We don't know. All we care about is money. That's why we didn't ask," the man replied coldly.
She no longer had the strength to argue. Without further delay, they shot her multiple times.
Both sisters now lay in their own blood—lifeless.
"Boss, aren't we going to dump the bodies?" one of the men asked.
The leader removed his mask. "No. The one who hired us wants news of their deaths to spread."
The others nodded, then returned to their van as if nothing had happened.
He glanced back at the bodies—one sister still clutching the other in death.
They were just following orders. After confirming the job was done, the leader received a call. Laughter erupted on the other end. Their employer was thrilled to hear that both women were dead.
According to what he had overheard, the sisters had stood in the way of someone's greed. That's why they had to die.
The man tried not to feel anything. You didn't pull the trigger, he told himself. You just did your job.
Still... guilt tugged at him.
Why now? I've done this many times before. This job pays for my siblings' food. They have no idea what I do.
"Hey!" someone said, tapping his shoulder. "You're not going to rat us out, are you?" the man joked.
"Even if he did, he'd end up in prison with us," another added, laughing.
He said nothing.
Why do I feel this way? Why does it bother me now?
Maybe it was because he had a sister of his own. He couldn't imagine her ending up like the women they had just killed.
He closed his eyes, forcing himself to calm down.
That won't happen." "It can't happen," he repeated as he massaged his temples.
Before heading home, they split the payment from their employer.
When he got home, he was no longer a killer but just a loving older brother, returning to his siblings in their simple home, living a life built on blood and secrets.