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The Chamber

Mario “Maxx” Hassell

    Alone. In my chamber. Everyone has choices. But not me. I was created for one reason; to destroy anything in my way. Right and wrong are not a part of my moral compass. Hell, I don’t even have a moral compass. I have one goal in mind and one goal only. And that goal is to kill. If I had my way, I’d stay here locked up. I’m no good to the world. Still, here I am.
    It seems to work for some people; me being a killer. At least for most of the people who employ my services. You know, society is a funny thing. No one seems to have a problem with a controlled assassin. And it’s true. I am controlled. I just act on order. Success isn’t my desire, but we all find fulfillment in meeting our purpose. And I find myself in solitaire contemplating my fate.
    I have one chance to get this right. I’m not sure what got the mark put on my target’s back. And I really don’t care. That’s not my place. All I know is I was in the cage with some of my fellow assassins and I was hand-picked from gen pop to complete this job. No picture. No briefing. “You’ll know him when you see him.” is the most we ever get. And this time was no different. One thing is for sure though; somebody’s day is ending way different than it started.
    Most killers have a debt to pay to society. But what debt do you pay when you serve your purpose. I’m not some misguided frat boy with rich kid problems or some thug from the ghetto. They have choices. Not me. The only choice I get is to succeed or to not. Today, I will succeed. But, first, they have to let me out. “But woe to the earth and the sea, because the devil has gone down to you!” Yeah, that’s the word for it alright; woe.
    I heard the click of the lock and escaped my chamber with an ear shattering “BANG!” I didn’t have time to look around. I tore through the air and hit my target within seconds. He fell to the ground yelping in pain. But, he shouldn’t be yelping in anything. That son of a bitch should be silent. It wasn’t long though before his screams took on an emotional candor. I mean, are his feelings hurt that he got shot? Almost simultaneously, though, a woman’s voice joined his “GABBYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!”
    Gabby? Gabby is a girl name. Damn. Damn. Damn. Not this. Gabby is definitely a girl name. Gabby is the name of the baby girl in the stroller that was in front of James when I hit him in his knee. And this is the bullshit I’m talking about. I’m a controlled assassin, no doubt. And my warden can’t even aim. I failed my mission because of and have to participate in the dismal mediocrity of a street salesman hell bent on revenge. He never once thought to get back at the people who told him he would never amount to anything by being successful. This coward wanted to come and mix it up with the likes of killers, present company included. And here I lay, much like a bee who has already used its stinger; useless. And as screams multiply into cries and escalate into sirens and the sounds manifest into a crowd around us, I become an even more useless witness to my own crime. If only I had a choice. I would have stayed in my chamber.
    Everyone has choices. Everyone has purpose. But I am not included in everyone. I am included in everything. My actions are not my choices. My actions are the direct result of the choice made by another. Depending on your worldview, my existence is justified. But, whatever your view, you need to understand that I can’t and won’t be tamed. It’s either all of me or none of me; literally. In my end I ponder that it’s crazy how the destiny of me and my victims align every single time. Because much like the 4 month old body that up until now housed an infant spirit and much the parents now set to begin their mourning process, I am but a shell, with no sign of any life spark. I got my chance. My one shot. And I blew it. No redo. No card up. And no return back to the chamber.

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