Author's Note: I am currently starting the scary process of querying agents and publishing houses with this story. If you have any recommendations, please post them below - it would be ever so much appreciated!
“Humans had gone to space before this, of course. We've found evidence of space travel in at least three previous eras, although little equipment or research made it past the cataclysm. But nothing compared to the exodus of the immortals. Philosophers suppose that with limitless time comes a yearning for limitless possibility. At some point, Earth may have offered too little by way of imagination. That, or it proved too much to remember.”
Adrian Doe, ‘The History of Immortality: A Retrospective’, Brey's Twelfth Chronicle, August 5th
Ryul knew that something was wrong as soon as she smelled the takeaway. Even though they had moved from one of Brey's more affluent suburbs to one of the apartment slums in the centre, her parents would never succumb to the salty guilt of noodles and fatty beef. They would suck on carrot sticks until they died, throwing each other self-indulgent, adoring glances across the moth-infested sofa as the world outside died in a slow-burning inferno.
The apartment door stood open, and Ryul took a half breath before entering, suddenly wary of the cheap-flickering light and uncertain of her courage. Across the hallway, a baby's cry abruptly stopped, and above, the thudding was still ongoing from this morning when she left for her delivery job.
But she hated slowness, and she hated hesitation, so she pushed the door open a little more forcefully than she otherwise would have. The hallway looked as it always did, with coats neatly hung on a rack to the side and boots and trainers piled up underneath. It is easy to be tidy after selling ninety percent of your possessions, Ryul thought with a twinge of bitterness. Light shone beneath the kitchen door, and the smell of Chow Mein and spring rolls intensified when Ryul closed the apartment door behind her.
Perhaps her parents had finally lost their minds? Or perhaps they finally saw things clearly. Perhaps this was the day they would sit her down and tell her they couldn't stand to look at her stupid face anymore. That she should pack her things and never come back.
But it wasn't her parents who sat in the kitchen, eating takeaway straight out of the carton. The stranger glanced up, and although she was sat down with her feet against the windowsill, Ryul felt she was being looked down upon.
“Hi,” the stranger said in a low, melodic voice. She gestured for Ryul to sit opposite her, and a carton of beef Chow Mein greeted her with a bout of steam.
“I didn't know what you'd like, so I ordered you the same as me. Been going to this place for years, and it always hits the spot.”
Ryul sat down and took a fork full of food. It was decent. The stranger gave her an approving glance underneath a stylish short haircut.
“Thought it would cover up the smell as well,” she continued in an oddly conversational tone.
Ryul noticed the gun on the table, just a little closer to the stranger than it was to her.
“Not that they'll be too smelly yet. I only got around to this job a couple of hours ago. But I thought I’d give you the courtesy of letting you know in person.”
Ryul chomped down on a piece of beef, chewy and resistant in her mouth. She didn't want to ask what the stranger was doing here. Despite everything, she was too proud to. She read the news, after all. She had a pretty good idea of what this woman was doing in her apartment.
“So, you killed them? Or did they get away?” she asked, her voice surprisingly firm, considering the guilt that gnawed at her stomach. The stranger nodded.
“Sorry, love. I'm not one of those amateurs who let their marks get away. Been in the business too long for that.” She passed Ryul the soy sauce unasked. “My name's Erna, by the way. Now you can put a name to the memory.” She looked strangely self-indulgent when she said it. “They're over in the bedroom. I wouldn't be so tacky as to kill them in the living room or, god forbid, the bathroom.”
“That'd be inconvenient,” Ryul agreed, her eyes holding Erna's with a pointless bit of stubbornness.
“That's what I thought.” The other woman didn't smile. She had a strangely professional air about her, even as she held up her noodles with plastic chopsticks.
“Did they suffer?” Ryul asked pointlessly. Erna shrugged.
“Everyone suffers when they die. I blindfolded them so they wouldn't have to watch. Your dad screamed, your mum didn't.” She shrugged again. “Seemed like a sweet couple. A bit overly in love, but maybe that's just the cynic in me.”
“They could be insufferable,” Ryul agreed slowly, then took a sip of water to chase away the taste of chilli at the back of her throat.
Erna gave her a long look. Ryul hesitated for a moment, then decided that she probably couldn't live with the way her brain was screaming at her, snapping at everything she breathed in. Maybe Erna could take care of that for her. Maybe Erna was happy to work for free.
“You know, they weren't the ones who had the procedure done,” she said, looking into Erna's brown eyes. “They wanted to, but the prices went up too fast. They could only afford one serum, so they had me get it done instead.”
Her eyes wandered towards the gun, and she wondered if she'd be fast enough to grab it before Erna. Probably not, but she could try anyway.
Erna raised her eyebrows, then snickered. “You don’t say. They weren’t lying,” she replied, but there was no visible surprise on her features. They were as calm as a windless lake.
She bit down on another piece of beef, then slowly moved it around her mouth.
“Oh well,” she finally said. “I don’t get paid double, so that's none of my business. You go on and live your immortal life, love. Enjoy it.”
Ryul nodded slowly. “Thanks,” she said because there was nothing else to say. Because that’s all there was.
“You're welcome. While there's some satisfaction in a job well done, I don't tend to do overtime. Me staying late today is already something of an exception.”
Ryul narrowed her eyes. “Then why are you still here? Are you going to try and drink some of my blood? Suck out my bone marrow?”
Erna considered her words for a moment. “Even if I thought that would work, no, thank you. This is purely a courtesy call. I thought you might appreciate someone breaking the news to you. A bit more personal that way.” She shrugged. “To be fair, I thought you'd be quite a bit younger than you are. When my employer said that your parents lived with their daughter, I imagined a child or a teenager. Not you.”
Ryul thought she imagined a hint of appreciation in the way Erna stressed that last word. She was vain enough to still care. Erna clicked her tongue.
“But to answer your question,” the assassin said. “No. I suppose I won’t try to suck the serum out of you. Trust me, love, the line of work I'm in makes immortality tricky. I don't have any trouble sleeping at night knowing I'm making the best I can out of a short, silly life.”
She narrowed her eyes and gave Ryul a thoughtful look. “But put the idea of eternity on the table, and few decisions seem justifiable, least of all the ones I'm making. And I like living too fast to worry about all that.” She winked. “I suppose that's the sort of thing you'll wrap your head around soon enough.”
“Hmm,” Ryul said. “I suppose I'll have to.”
She swallowed two more chunks of beef, one for herself, desperate to live despite it all, and one for the roaring guilt that smelled the blood and rot from her parents' dead bodies just a few rooms over.
Comments