Silent Hearts

In and out…in…and…out. His breathing began to slow down, muscles tensed up, and his pupils dilated. To anyone looking, that is assuming they can see him through the brush, would think a tiger was about to strike and they wouldn’t be far off from thinking that. Thomas, otherwise known as the Paper Tiger, lay in wait for his target the newly appointed Prime Minister of Russia. It’s not that he enjoyed killing or had some sadistic mentality, but after disbandment of Project Marvel there were certain governments and agencies in need of highly skilled people and Thomas fit that description.

“3…2…” Thomas counted silently in his head, trailing off.

At the one, Thomas burst forward from the brush. One arm went around the neck apply pressure at the elbow joint, the other hand covering the mouth and before anybody knew what had happened it was over. The strangest thing, and Thomas’ trademark, was that there was never any sound during the assassination and there was never a trace found of Thomas only the body. Only moments later, Thomas was on the roof of a nearby apartment. He was on the ledge crouching down watching another clean up in progress as he shimmied a cigarette out of his pack and lit it up. His dark green eyes scanned the scene bored with everything, every mission was the same and easy. Thomas could care less about political aspirations or the high reward for these missions, but civilian life wouldn’t fit either so he was stuck here.

“I see you’ve done your work dutifully again Paper Tiger,” a woman’s voice appeared behind Thomas, making no noise as she entered as if she simply popped up, “You know you could just as easily kill them from here.”

“That’s not the point,” he sighed, resulting in a cloud of smoke, “you don’t get the same closeness with them with long-range.”

“Oh?” she mocked him, “The Paper Tiger likes to get friendly with targets? Tell me do you have tea with them beforehand too?” she cackled, amusing herself.

“Shut up Dissonance.” He spoke curtly with her, finding everything about her annoying even her scent.

Thomas had a past with Dissonance, real name Yulia, which he had long tried to forget. She was his first wife, before Project Marvel, and had met her on assignment in Russia. Thomas’ job before was serving in the British military as an officer. As things deteriorated politically the world began to split and push towards the brink of war that’s when Project Marvel came in. It was an uncreatively named international project to create government-controlled super-human that could sweep in and end conflicts before they really begin. Thomas and Yulia were already married before the project, but were drafted together by their governments separately. All in all there were only five people drafted in and only three left living today: Thomas, Yulia, and a rogue American agent who went MIA shortly after being deployed in Southern Asia. Thomas was given his name because his ability to slip in between dimensions instantly. Enemies reported hearing and or seeing only a rustle like papers being be blown in the wind hence the name Paper Tiger, a silent entry, but a powerful strike. Yulia was granted a sort of mental manipulation, she could bring enemies down to such a mental break down they would be crippled and she could to entire crowds, cognitive dissonance which is what gave her her code name.

“People reveal their true self when they are moments from death,” Thomas finally rose and turned around to face Yulia, “In those last few moments as the heart goes quiet you get…a glimpse at their soul if you will. Something you care nothing about.”
                “Right, because I’m normal and I’d rather not get blood on this dress.” She dusted herself lightly looking at the ground disgustedly, “This country is dirty enough.”

“Will you just get to the point Yulia? I’m assuming you are here to assign my next mission?” he was visibly and audibly irritated by his ex-wife.

She had grown to actually enjoy the killing part of their job. They both shared a disinterest in the politics of this game, but where Thomas convinced himself it was for the “greater good”, Yulia turned it into a hobby, slowing down her methods to watch them squirm. Thomas saw himself as a Machiavellian person; the ends justify the means, whereas Yulia was an anarchist. She would’ve destroyed the governments already, but that wasn’t lady-like of her and all the blood would just stain her dress.

She huffed like she was insulted, “An old flame can’t just come to say hi?” she smiled before she jumped, a bit startled by Thomas’ quick glare, “Fine fine hmph…We’re being disbanded and targeted.”

Thomas was taken back and looked back at her silently. She continued, “The American is gone and it’s down to one of us. Only one of us can survive Thomas.” Her voice lowered as she approached Thomas, like a mother telling her child a pet is dead.

“So then this was your master plan huh?” he smiled tossing away the remains of his cigarette, “Toy with me first then kill me?”

Yulia looked hurt, she outstretched her arms embracing Thomas as she reached him, “No, of course not. I was hoping we could put our differences aside for the sake of survival.”

“And how do I know I can trust you?” He remained motionless, refusing to reciprocate the hug.

“My my Thomas, must you always be the cynic? I loved you once why can’t I feel the same again?”

“Because this stopped being about anything but love a long time ago.”

“It did? And since when are you such a heartless man?”

“Would it be cliché to say when you left me?”

She smiled, “Well yes, it would but you’re just full of clichés anyways so it doesn’t matter.”

He remained silent for a bit as he closed his eyes. It helped his concentration to shut off the world, listening granted a lot more information than sight. He could hear both of their heartbeats the rhythmic beating almost seemed to match up, thump…thump…thump. He softened a bit, remembering just how beautiful their life really was before everything happened and how beautiful it could be now. It wasn’t crazy to think they could make it, it was a very distinct possibility.
                “Oh Thomas I know we had our differences but,” She finally broke the silence but her words were cut off sharply.

Thomas had finally moved again and in doing so he had removed his knife and thrust it into her heart. When he opened his eyes they locked in with Yulia’s and in that moment nothing else existed. He gently lay her down sitting with her and set her head in his lap, making his best attempt to have her last moments at least be comfortable he placed a hand on her side with the wound. He did his best to slow the bleeding, only enough to allow one last conversation, and felt her heartbeat.

“Why?” she pleaded, a helpless cry but the only one that made sense in an unexpected moment of tragedy.

“In all honesty,” Thomas let out a long sigh, “I don’t know. Maybe I still don’t trust you and don’t want to risk being betrayed, maybe I’m trying to protect you from the hardships of living as a fugitive. I honestly just don’t know.”

She laughed, unintentionally causing herself to cough flecks of blood, “Only you Thomas would try and protect a woman you hate.”

He hung his head smiling, “Yulia,” he brushed hair out of her eyes getting one last look into them, “I never hated you…I never even left your side.”

She weakly moved her arm up removing Thomas’ hand from the wound, “you could’ve at least…tried not to stain the dress.” She smiled mildly as she slipped away.

Thomas sat there listening to her heart fall silent. He slumped down a bit, knowing that she was finally gone and felt nothing. He thought having peace from her would have some sort of cathartic release, but in the end this kill like all the others was boring and easy. Thomas stood up and tried cleaning his hands of her blood. He smiled and laughed at himself, the thought that her last words were about a dress, a dying woman worried about a stained dress. People truly are themselves before they die.

Dreamed Dreams

There’s a lot of fish in the sea, it’s always darkest before the dawn, and various other clichés are always handed out to desolate people after terrible break-ups. Empty, hollow words are tossed about in a meaningless attempt to make sense of everything. That’s getting ahead of the story though; to appreciate these sentiments we have to go back to the beginning. Well, actually we pick up towards the end of Edward Alonzo’s marriage so we are starting at the beginning of the end so to speak.

Edward was an average man of 30 at this point with thin blond hair and a worn-down demeanor. The color faded from his face years ago and wasn’t even a shadow of what he used to be when he married Kathy. She had retained much of her features throughout the years, mostly due to draining money from Edward for expensive make-up and fashion fads. Together in public they looked like an old man who had found his trophy wife despite the fact that Kathy was actually two years older than Ed. He worked as an accountant in New York City and she quit work as a waitress once she latched onto her piggy bank. In the 8 years of their marriage they had no children together and remained in a small uptown apartment, which was another unassuming facet of the Alonzo’s life. Simple white walls containing simple people and their simple lives no matter how they tried to “spice things up”. The only real way they tried to bring something more into the relationship was a desperate attempt by Kathy to keep around what she called her money, but what most people referred to as her husband. There were lingerie nights and “sexy” outfits, roleplaying, any sort of sexual play that Kathy could think of, but Ed grew tired of them easily and the spark never lasted for more than a few days. After a year or two of trying and failing the relationship fell dead, but the corpse of their marriage lingered as both were too stupid or stubborn, whatever you think, to leave. Ed because he simply had no inclination that nothing was wrong and Kathy because she couldn’t risk living on her own again.

While they were both content to live a life vacant of emotion and move around each other like ghosts if we fast forward a few months, divorce papers are being filed just like that. In the months between Kathy had been having an affair on the side and when she found out her lover had money and no wife, Edward became dispensable and that’s how we reached this point. The split was simple and clean and they both moved on as best they could, one obviously faring better than the other. A few weeks later, Edward was still in shock over the divorce as he somehow never saw it coming. His life continued in much the same way as when he was married however except now there wasn't a baleful stare across the table from a woman who was reconsidering the benefits of being a trophy wife to a man who had no need for a trophy. Someone on the outside might call it a sad existence, but after a few weeks Edward barely remembered that he had a wife as his life moved on. He became set in his ways after the divorce, so much so that the path he walked in the morning was worn down like an old field trail and that was perfectly fine with him. As far as he was concerned Kathy never existed and this wasn't due to any hateful scorn or resentment, but simply the result of an inept man who never should've been married in the first place. For Edward the past years of his life were like a dream, not a particularly fantastical one but it was pleasant and nice which was a fair description of Edward’s life as well. It wasn't a star-studded life, but it was normal and plain and Edward braved it heroically.