Broken Reflections

Sparsh Verma posted under Flash Fiction QuinTale-04 on 2018-12-07



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An orphan, abused in shelters, devoid of any relationship, Roy grew up detesting humans and in an explicable manner, took up the role of a hired killer early in his teens. Putting a bullet through somebody’s skull, severing the artery of an unsuspecting victim and feeling the warmth of blood drenching his hands, gave him an unpredictable high of gratification. Humans had been mere objects for him and never in the last seven years had he hesitated to take a kill-shot. Never, till that cold callous night of December. After blowing the brains out of his target, Roy looked around the car only to find a girl locked-up in the trunk. A potential witness, he thought, while pointing the gun at her; only to look into her eyes and notice an unusual expression. She wasn’t afraid, she wasn’t begging for her life; rather her eyes looked like they yearned for death. Roy stared into her eyes for a while before putting his gun away, much to the girl’s disappointment. He helped her out of the car, brought her to his empty home and tended to her injuries; the ones that showed. He could sense she was much more damaged on the inside, with wounds that would never heal.

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Six months passed by since that December night. From the occasional interactions that followed the quiet dinner, Roy learned that her name was Elena, a migrant who was unscrupulously pushed down the road of trafficking and flesh trade since her teens. Life, hope, aspiration, had been all a farce to her since the last half a dozen year. Roy could look down her empty eyes to see an ocean of hopelessness which sometimes manifested in the form of uncontrollable tears. A damaged soul himself, Roy could understand. There had been nights when he had cried out loud but even he could not fathom how much scarred her soul was. Roy wished he could find a way to heal maybe even a little part of her; he wished he could save her.

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One rainy evening in August, Roy came back, bruised but standing firm. He held the hands of Elena, looked into her eyes and whispered, “I've got a gift. There’s a surprise for you in the garage”. She gingerly walked by his side in the rain into the garage to see the silhouette of a man, tied up, kneeling. Roy turned the lights on and a cry of anger, horror & disbelief rang through the garage. It was Elena’s uncle, who had once sold her to the traffickers. Six years of hell flashed before Elena’s eyes till they caught the glimmer of the blade Roy held in his hands. She sprung upon her uncle with the dagger, repeatedly stabbing him for every atrocity she had suffered till she was covered in red. Her frail, battered soul had finally tasted revenge and Roy could see a newfound vigor in her eyes. He knew at last he had found someone like him.