Columbina – Picked the wrong target

Did it really matter?

No. Not that it was ever put in doubt. It was like the snow that fell down to cover the ground all year long. The little icing on a nation. Though it came without sweetness and with little to do against it. Temperatures didn't fluctuate much anymore. The hearth of houses were working less and less as people could barely even afford coal anymore. Men, women and children alike all had to work and make themselves useful, chopping down trees and desperately stoking the fires. Only the elderly were exempt from the harsh cold outside at all times. Yet even inside, chores and food management were their own matters. Everyone had their duty. Everyone did their part.

Yet every shiver that could be felt from the comfort of home, even as the fire from the chimney burned bright, was a blow to the morale of every resident. Doors and windows were sealed during the night and leaving was forbidden. Heat was a commodity that none could afford to waste anymore. Even some of the children could understand what it meant. The winter was getting harsher and it wouldn't be long before the first embers died out...

Alternatives were few and far from efficient. There was not a creature in the forest whose pelt hadn't been tested against the elements. No merchant had been convinced to offer even the tiniest discount for the luxury that became coal and other combustibles. The cold was unforgiving, a relentless aggressor. No stone had been unturned to find a cure to the blight Mother Nature had inflicted upon your innocent souls.

Innocence.

This had been your sacrifice.

Hunting and selling pelts along with meat. This was what had filled the entirety of your days by then. If you weren't seen rearming traps, you'd be sharpening your weapons or selling your goods at the marketplace. The village's only breadwinner, they saw you as a saviour. There was so much they didn't see... You had brought back enough wealth to the people for coal to be afforded for every household. Children didn't have to sleep with the fear of seeing their parent's frozen corpses lying next to them anymore. Parents could spend their time raising their kids instead of bringing them out to cut down wood throughout the week. The elderly could rest easy, knowing they would leave behind a place which was no longer holding on by a thread. Everything was going for the better.

Leaving early in the morning to hunt was nothing new. Your neighbours were used to the sound of a door closing and the occasional clatter of your gear. Well equipped, waving goodbye to a group of toddlers playing with in the same snow you had grown to hate. Pristine white. You had almost forgotten the sight. There were none of the occasional questions about what you were going to hunt today. Good, you didn't have to lie and say some plausible animal name. Then again, they wouldn't question you, did it really matter?

Entering the maze of trees and bushes was nothing new either. Careful steps through the snow to avoid leaving footprints and alerting "prey" had also become second nature. The multiple disappearances reported in the forest made most outsiders wary about coming here unguarded. They had started taking notice of your handiwork, this would make the hunt a lot harder for a few weeks. Most people passing through this part of the woods used to be clueless and without anyone to accompany them. Seeing the numbers dwindle down, you'd have to lay low for a little while. There was no need to rush, people would return.

A cracking branch in the distance made you crouch, breaking any potential line of sight. Slowly looking around, you saw her. Well kept hair jet-black hair with pink strands, delicate features, expensive-looking fur coat and carefree steps with wings that were screaming to every predator out there that dinner was served on a silver platter. She was smiling and walking in the woods, alone. You were surprised she was still alive, but finders keepers. Whether or not she had a story, hopes and dreams, they didn't compare to the safety of your kin.

She was humming a song, what exactly? You weren't sure. More focused on the fact you hadn't heard her earlier. Getting lost in thought wasn't something you had been able to afford these days yet you found yourself caught off guard. Still, she was there so did it really matter? You drew your weapon, waiting for a satisfying angle. She couldn't be given any time to scream, it would make it hard to find an alibi if the sound were to draw people to this place. A long breath. A swift motion. A brief noise. Bullseye.

You rushed over to where the body had fallen, having learned that valuables with less blood sell surprisingly better and with a comfortably low amount of questions. Crouching next to the bleeding corpse, you were about to run through her pockets when you heard something- someone, coming. Freezing in place, you placed your thumb over her wrist, making a show of checking if she was alive. If you were going to be caught you may as well play the part of an innocent bystander. Checking for a pulse you had snuffed out yourself, you pretended to be startled by the approaching stranger before turning around.

She was there. She... was there? What?

How? Your breath quickened, unusual for someone so used to killing. If she was standing in front of you then who had you just... You glanced down at the body below you. Gone. Not a single trace. You could've sworn it was bleeding a moment ago. She was looking at you, amused. With a grace that betrayed that of a dead person walking, she smiled at least twice as much as she did before. Whatever. You would do it again. A lunge and a blade tearing straight through the skin.

There. Dead. Again. You were sitting on top of her body that had been stripped of life once more. The knife was still deep inside of her throat, coating the blade in blood along with your hands. Maybe it was a sign you should stop for now. Killing so much, even if for a cause, couldn't be good for your mental health. You were about to check your surroundings after this surreal expression before someone else approached

The same hair, the same smile. She giggled. You wanted to run, kill her, beg, wake up. Anything to put an end to whatever was just starting. Was she taunting you? It was hard to say. Still, there was no blood on your hands and the body you were on had vanished too. This couldn't be real. She couldn't be real. It simply should not be possible. The blood, the sound of her body hitting the snow. Had your sense failed you? If so, why did the gaze that fell on you so akin to the ones children in the village had when they played together?

"My goodness... you're really bad at this, aren't you? Poor thing."

Her palm was against the side of her face as if holding her head on her shoulders. She walked a few steps closer. What felt like a countdown to either your demise or the breaking point of what remained of your reason. You were still armed. You knew which points to strike if you had to kill her again. But it had already been proven futile twice. Another step. Another laugh. Another beat from your heart. Another step. A dozen more. You couldn't read her intentions. Couldn't see behind her veiled eyes. Couldn't guarantee you were still living despite your heart rapidly thumping. In that moment, before her.

Did it really matter?