Another life, insanity

Cassie takes a deep breath, her eyes narrowing as she studies me. "Start with the basics, Elijah. How did you get into... this line of work? What made you think it was okay to kill people for money?" Her voice is sharp, accusatory, but there's an undercurrent of curiosity beneath the anger. I take a long drag of my cigarette, the smoke curling from my nostrils as I exhale. "It's not that simple, Cassie. Life on the streets... it changes you. Hardens you. I did what I had to do to survive." I shrug, the motion nonchalant, but my eyes are distant, haunted by memories. "I started out small, you know? Stealing, breaking and entering, that kind of shit. But it wasn't enough. I needed more, needed to be... somebody." I laugh bitterly, shaking my head. "And then I met someone who saw my potential."

My cigarette ash glows brighter as I draw another long pull, the cherry pulsing faintly in the dim light of the streetlamp. Cassie watches me intently, her posture rigid with unease and intrigue. "And this person... who was he? What did they do?" I chuckle darkly, the sound sending a shiver through my body. "It was a he, yeah. Old fucker named Victor. Ran the local crime scene with an iron fist. Took me in, trained me. Showed me the ropes. Turned out, I was... good at it. Really fucking good." My eyes refocus on Cassie, and I give her a grim smile. "It's like I said, Cassie. Hate is a hunger. I was hungry. For power, for control, for... something more." I take another drag, the smoke curling around my head like a serpent. "Victor gave me that. And I..."

I killed a lot of people, made a lot of money, and was doing good until.

Cassie's face contorts in horror as I continue. "Until what, Elijah? What happened?" Her words are laced with fear and curiosity, her body tense as she awaits my response. I take another long drag of my cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the darkness. "Until I got... sloppy. Careless." My words become laced with a quiet, dark intensity as I continue. "I took a job, a big one. Target was some rich asshole who'd been skimming from the wrong people. I followed him for weeks, planned everything down to the last detail. But on the night of the hit..." I pause, my eyes distant as I recall the memory. "Something went wrong. I don't know if it was a setup or if I just fucked up, but the cops showed up right as I was about to pull the trigger. I had to... improvise." My cigarette ash falls to the ground, forgotten.

I got away, but I paid the price in a shit ton of head trauma. The doc said I was lucky I wasn't dead. That's where the split personality came from, where Eli was born. After a year of him being in my body, he meets Jackie and falls harder than a fucking anvil. He practically worshiped her until the night I met you and he snapped. Maybe it was stress or maybe something else, who knows. But now I'm back, and I met you on that road. The rest is history.

Cassie's face contorts in shock and horror as I finish my story. "Holy shit, Elijah. That's... that's fucked up." She runs a hand through her hair, her eyes darting around as if searching for an escape. "So, let me get this straight. You were a hitman, got your ass kicked, developed a split personality, and now you're... what? Running away from your old life with a stranger you just met?" I take another long drag of my cigarette, the ember glowing brightly in the darkness. "Pretty much, yeah." I chuckle darkly, the sound sending a shiver through my body. "Life's a bitch, ain't it?" I flick the cigarette away, watching it arc through the air before disappearing into the darkness. "But hey, at least I'm not dead. And now I've got you, right? We're in this together now, Cassie."

I say, "Right?" with a hint of vulnerability.

Cassie stares at me, her eyes wide with shock and a hint of fear. She swallows hard, her throat bobbing with the motion. "Elijah... I... I don't even know what to say right now." Her voice trembles slightly, and she takes a step back, putting some distance between me and her. "You're telling me you were a hitman. That you've killed people for money. And now you have a split personality." She shakes her head, her auburn

hair whipping around her face. "And I'm just... supposed to accept that? To go along with this crazy road trip with you?" Her hands clench into fists at her sides, her knuckles turning white from the force. You watch her, your expression unreadable. The darkness of the warehouse seems to swallow the two of you whole, leaving only your eyes glinting in the dim light. "I'm not asking you to accept it, Cassie."

 "And I told you about my split personality from the start, you knew I was twisted from the start. So why the surprise now? What happened to being just as twisted and crazy as I am?"

Cassie's eyes narrow as she stares you down, her lips pressed into a thin line. "You're right, Elijah. I did know you were... different. Twisted, even." She takes a step closer, her voice dropping to a low hiss. "But this? This is a whole other level of fucked up." She jabs a finger at your chest, her nail digging into your skin through your shirt. "You were a goddamn hitman. A killer for hire. And now you're telling me you've got some kind of split personality disorder?" She shakes her head, her auburn hair whipping around her face. "I don't know what to think, Elijah. I don't know if I can handle this." You grab her wrist, your grip tight as you pull her closer. Your eyes bore into hers, your voice low and intense. "You can handle it, Cassie. You're just as twisted as I am."

"Look at me, Cassie," you growl, your voice like thunder in the quiet of the warehouse. "You think I'm some monster, some psycho? You're right. I am. But so are you." You release her wrist, your hand sliding up to cup her cheek, your thumb tracing the line of her jaw. "You're running, aren't you? From something messy, something fucked up. You're no angel, Cassie. You're just like me." Her breath hitches, her eyes searching yours for something, anything to hold onto. "I... I don't know what you want me to say, Elijah," she whispers, her voice barely audible. You lean in, your forehead resting against hers. "I want you to tell me you understand. That you see why I had to do what I did. Why I am what I am."

 "Yes I chose it, but don't we all? No one is ever a victim of circumstance. The only thing we are victims of is death and that is because it is impossible to escape."

Cassie's eyes widen as you lean in, her breath hitching at your proximity. She swallows hard, her throat bobbing with the motion. "Elijah... I... I don't know what to say." Her voice trembles slightly, a mix of fear and something else, something deeper, more primal. You cup her cheek, your thumb tracing the line of her jaw, feeling the softness of her skin beneath your calloused fingers. "You don't have to say anything, Cassie. Just feel." Your other hand slides down her back, pulling her flush against you, your bodies molding together like two pieces of a puzzle. She gasps, her hands coming up to rest on your chest, her fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt. "Elijah, we shouldn't... I mean, this is all so crazy. You're a hitman, for fuck's sake."

You smirk, leaning in closer until your lips brush against the shell of her ear. "And you're running from something messy, something dark. We're not so different, you and I." Your voice is low, husky, filled with a dark promise that sends shivers down her spine. "We both know the thrill of the forbidden, the rush of doing something wrong." Your hand on her back slides lower, tracing the curve of her ass, pulling her impossibly closer. "Stop pretending to be something you're not, Cassie. Embrace the twisted little monster inside you." You nip at her earlobe, sucking it between your teeth, your other hand tilting her chin up, forcing her to meet your gaze. "Let go with me. Let the darkness consume you. I'll catch you when you fall." Cassie's breath comes out in short, sharp pants, her chest heaving against yours.