Ring around the rosy.

Mama, why wasn’t I names Ashley, or Ashlynn. You said I rose from the ashes, right?

Pocket full of posies.

Mama sighed, her deep brown eyelashes fluttering, pushing back tears that were bound to flood her anyway.

Ashes, ashes,

“Why would you want to be named Ashes? They are so depressing.”

They all fall down.

Mamá was convinced that she would never tell her child the truth.

Ring around the Rosie.

Mamá, years before, only a young girl then, running franticly, trying to bundle the twins close to her chest.

Pocket full of posies.

The lunatic chased her with a torch, the same torch she had beaten her with. Still on fire.

Ashes, ashes.

She tried to hide the dead child, tried to leave faster, tried to keep the remaining child alive.

They all fall down.

The waterfall saved the living, and washed away the dead, deterred the evil.

Ashes, ashes, they all fall down. Good night Eira, good night Ashes. Sleep well my daughters.

Ring around the rosy.

Mama, why wasn’t I names Ashley, or Ashlynn. You said I rose from the ashes, right?

Pocket full of posies.

Mama sighed, her deep brown eyelashes fluttering, pushing back tears that were bound to flood her anyway.

Ashes, ashes,

“Why would you want to be named Ashes? They are so depressing."

They all fall down.

Mamá was convinced that she would never tell her child the truth.

Ring around the Rosie.

Mamá, years before, only a young girl then, running franticly, trying to bundle the twins close to her chest.

Pocket full of posies.

The lunatic chased her with a torch, the same torch she had beaten her with. Still on fire.

Ashes, ashes.

She tried to hide the dead child, tried to leave faster, tried to keep the remaining child alive.

They all fall down.

The waterfall saved the living, and washed away the dead, deterred the evil.

Ashes, ashes, they all fall down. Good night Eira, good night Ashes. Sleep well my daughters.

Rain pelted against his heavy overcoat as he dipped in and out of alleys, across backroads, avoiding main streets at all costs. He had to go quickly. No one knew how much time they had. Unfortunately, his supernatural strength did not translate over to his speed. Hopefully, Mila could heal whatever was broken until he got there.

Jamie, a previous black market assassin only known by his anonymous name “Mr. J".had never been called him directly before his goddaughter called him and gave him a plan for her escape. Abaddon and Jamie had both been Guards, loyal to the throne, but Abaddon had always resented Jamie’s giftedness as he had been left normal.

Abaddon's life had been normal, and he had always hated it. He had always been amibtious, wishing and hunting for a better life for himself. Officers started going dark, dropping like flies, and he had looked into it, he seemed to relate more with them than with the others.

The Kingdom’s palace guards had so many corrupt officers, going out and killing people unofficially, before turning dark, becoming a league of killers more cunning than the guards employed to hold them. If Jamie was being honest, he knew it was only a matter of time before Abaddon joined them.

Mila, Abaddon’s eight-year-old daughter, had spent her whole life dodging her father’s blows, ducking under and around his lies. When he found out that she was gifted, her mother tried to shield her from his wrath, but it was too much. He was angry, knowing he could never control her. It got worse when he went farther underground.

Mila had planned her moves carefully. Her gifts made her wise beyond her years. She could anticipate his moves. She called Jamie again, securing the plan to get her and her mother out. She readied the transfer papers, switching custody from her father to Jamie.

Things had gone awry. Mara couldn’t hold him, Mila couldn’t heal her mother, Jamie couldn’t run fast enough. The last thing Jamie wanted was to kill his friend, but this had gone too far out of control.

Jamie was gifted and talented, but Abaddon was cunning. Abaddon’s mind moved at the speed of light. When he jabbed, he ensured pain. All of the strategically placed punches directed at his head, neck and stomach were too painful. Abaddon had certainly lost his mind. His fresh killer tattoos screamed danger at him, he was going for the kill. In all of their years of friendship, Jamie would be lying if he said he didn’t see it coming.

Jamie won, but barely in an act of rage and wildness. He hated letting his gift take over, but letting Mila die was not an option for him. 

On the way out, Jamie’s adrenaline faded, the pain searing hotter than anticipated. The heat of it caught up to him all at once. He blacked out and tumbled down the stairs. He should have died. But Mila.

She was quick this time, She had a better idea of what she was doing. It exhausted her, draining her body some as she restored the health in his.

As she restored his body its previous shape, she fell out, exhausted, in exchange for Jamie sitting up and rejuvenated. Jamie scooped her up, wondering at her power and knowing that she would always be stronger than him. 

They ran. Hopping world wide from Japan, to Costa Rica, to Brazil, and to Russia. Everywhere they went, oppression followed. But everywhere they went, Mila grew stronger.

The guard report told everyone that Abaddon had OD’d on steroids mixed with alcohol, and something had gone wrong in his system. This meant everything. It meant that Abaddon had officially a Killer. 

Jamie was not exactly prepared to raise a child, but they got along fine. They went through life together, purposefully ignoring the fact that they were always on the run, for years. They would stay at no one place for more than a year. They always lived remotely, made very little contact with those they didn’t know. 

Their lives moved on, Mila growing into a beautiful young woman, but the day was coming soon, when they could no longer run. They waited patiently for it to come.

Somehow, she knew he was there even before she could hear him. Jamie was out, patrolling for the night. The problem with the assassins was that they never got caught. The few who were caught received hushed punishments. If Jamie could catch them, then maybe something could happen. Life could change.

Somehow, she knew he was weak before she even saw him. The pieces fell together. At the Romanian cabin, he had staggered. Abaddon’s muscles were defined, but looking back, he was skinny. His face was hidden then, his motions were jerky and too fast. They assumed that they had seen his destruction in the way his inconsistent holes punctured the walls, everything in the house trashed and destroyed. The landlady had never forgiven them for that, even after she threw soup at them and sent her dog to chase them for 

In the apartment in Costa Rica, Mila got a call from the neighbor below her, worried because she heard someone climbing up the walls. Fear told her that it was him, but logic. Each time there were always a pair of assassins. He was never with the same accomplice, but it explained what she was seeing now.

The figure standing before her was no more than a bunch of pale, translucent skin hanging loosely from a skeleton. His muscle practically melted, dripping disgustingly off his body. He wheezed, blood and saliva sliding down his cheeks and chin. A syringe still hung from his arm. His pale skin and dark, sagged eyes, scratches and tattoos marked his whole body. He was bad off. Whatever drugs he had taken had done a number on him.

This shriveled shell of a man could not do anything to her even if he wanted to. He barely croaked before doubling over in a fit of coughs. 

Half torn, she guided him into a seat. She then proceeded to call Jamie. Half an hour later, the two were standing in front of the shriveled being that was formerly a man.

“What do we do with him?” Mila gulped.

Jamie crossed his arms and sighed. “It’s your choice, hon. This is no longer my fight.”

Abaddon coughed. “Although it is none of my business, it would be nice to catch up with my oldest friend. And I thought you would want to know, I did not come here to kill you. Nothing of the like.”

Mila snorted. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“It is no secret that my body is damaged beyond repair.” Jamie visibly gagged as he pulled the syringe out of Abaddon’s arm and wrapped it up to throw it away.

“I have lived my life all wrong. Destroyed the good purpose, practically joined a cult, lost my daughter, killed my wife! I can’t even believe some of the things I’ve done.”

Mila scoffed, pushing down the press of hurt and tears stinging the back of her eyes. “You know what, Don?” She started hotly. “I’ve spent my whole life wrong. Do you have any idea why i would feel this way?”

Jamie hung his head, letting his back press against the wall behind him.

“I have spent my whole life running, hiding and training like I’m preparing for war. With you! For years. Look at what you’ve turned yourself into. You are hideous and weak. I can’t believe I spent my life running away from you!  I could have gone through life like a normal kid.” She shouted, crystal clear teardrops beginning to form in the corners of her eyes. “And the things you did to Jamie? And Mom?!” Her voice cracked. The tears, only a sharp sting before, began to fall, like traitors. Her heartbeat quickened. Her breath sucked in and out like an air pump. She unexpectedly crumpled to the ground like a wilted flower, crushed by the cold unforgiving hand of fear.

Jamie removed Abaddon from the room, but waited to call it in knowing what needed to be said. 

“I’m not strong enough.” The steady chant flowed from Mila’s lips, her eyes hollow and tired from crying. He was completely caught off guard, seeing her grovel like this. 

“Mila Eve, look at me. You need to remember how strong you are. You are able to do anything you set your mind to, including how to deal with your father.”

Mila wiped her tears and looked up at him with her big green eyes. “He might be my father, but I think you’re my dad.” 

She hugged him, burying her face in his shoulder. His shoulder that had always been there for her. 

She stood, pulling herself together to face her father with her dad faithfully behind her.

Abaddon was smiling devilishly when she entered. His smile meant that something was wrong. “I never finished. I told you I’m not here to kill you. I’m just the diversion.” 

Mila recoiled as the disgusting creature stood bonds gone, only for his body to jerk violently. Mila screamed, shocked as she watched his lifeless body hit the ground hard. The world came crashing in around her. All of her training kicked in when the room imploded, as seven assassins jumped through the windows.

Her limbs moved in a blur, delivering strikers that were meant to maim, not paralyze. All meant to hurt, not kill. Within seconds it was over. Jamie was breathing heavily, his forearms shaking, slowing down from the momentum that took over him when he used his strength. A look passed between them. He turned to make a call. The arrest of so many assassins. But the question now, what would happen now that Abbadon was dead?

They took the time to talk about it at a lake, far away from society’s many calls, the guard, the assassins, the gifted. 

“What do you want to do with your life now? Go to college? Travel? You don’t need me to worry about you anymore, sol I’ll probably go deeper undercover for the guard.”

Mila thought for a minute before answering. Before she had been opposed to becoming a guard, as she saw that there had to be something wrong with it if her father turned so violently away from it. But now she observed life with new vision. “I wanna build a house, and become a guard.”

Jamie smiled. “You should have fun with that.”

“Of course we will. There’s no way I’m going through the world without you. Besides, who is going to watch my back if you leave.”