The Quest:
Her eyes opened, and the blue of the sky had turned to orange, the chirping birds to shrieking bullets. Too late, she realized. It worked. 
 


The Hundred Deaths:
Her shoulders shook with a toxic mix of grief and guilt as her bloodshot eyes stared into his lifeless ones. "Another one," she brokenly whispered.

The symphony of his voice was delightful. Rich, and warm, and soothing. His eyes, the green abyss, almost hypnotic. I shoot. She screams. He smiles.

They had fought all their lives for what the society deemed "Good." They had killed, and died, and tortured, and bled, had stripped themselves of human so effectively that evil itself bowed before them. The day that happened, they thought they had won. What they hadn't realized was that in their fight to abolish evil, they had surpassed it. They had become the very demons they had hunted, and now the very same people who once hailed them heroes shrieked...

Her eyes opened, and the blue of the sky had turned to orange, the chirping birds to shrieking bullets. Too late, she realized. It worked.