If I had feelings or any wishes. I’d wish to be different. Different from the human I was, I doubt that I should be called even that. I was nothing but a killing machine now. Made by my masters to follow every task they set out for me. To do as they wished or suffer the consequences. And this time there’s something far more precious than my humanity. But a flicker of that humanity must’ve remained inside me to give a f**k about the consequences if I didn’t murder her or take her to the place where her beautiful grey eyes would be nothing but a vacant vessel and soon her beauty would disappear, leaving just a dead soul with living body. And that humanity flickers in resentment whenever I look at her, or take a step to do what I was supposed to do. Because it was clear how far they had cheat
