Assassin's Last Stand

Hope is a misnomer. It should be called, "hanging on", or one better, "holding on", but calling it "hope"..., that just gives it too much teeth to bite into. I am not one of those "despaired" NEETs. I am just realistic. And in this universe, hope is what gets you desperate. Not dead, desperate for death. I come from a long line of assassins, and we are good at our job. So, take it from an expert - Hope is not something you hold onto. It is something that gets you killed.

Water? Are you really serious? Water is what you want when I am monologuing about my dreams and aspirations? You are a funny person! A brave one at that, but anyway, I will not deny a dying person their last wish. Water is what you want - you can have it, but once I am done lamenting about the "Tragedy known as life". What? You’re dying of thirst? It’s funny... I thought you were dying from the bullet in your chest. Maybe you're mistaking your dying breath for thirst? Anyway, who am I to deny a last wish... Here, take a sip. Hey! Don't spit it out! It’s the only liquid I have on me, and it’s expensive. Unbelievable!!!!! You are a remarkably rude person to spit out top-shelf Old-Monk.

I am sorry, I am an emotional person. I quickly get offended when people "waste" luxury—you see, I am from a very poor background. One meal, shared between five siblings per day, with nothing to quench our thirst. I know what you are thinking: "Line of assassins?" I did not lie back there, I am from a line of assassins. Assassins are actually poor—and horny. They make a looooot of kids, and feeding them is not an easy job on an assassin's salary. You should listen to what my spouse has to say about my line of work. To be honest, they are expecting a Claude subscription paid in full for the next six months from the job I am doing right now—"you," in case that was confusing. Death is confusing, and I am an empathetic person. I've got your back, but you see, my kids are in big peril: train in AI to get a job, get a job to buy an AI subscription. Truly a Predestination movie with their career as the protagonist. Anyway, we have been talking a lot about me, what about you. Is your spouse naggy and bitchy like mine... You don't have to say it out loud if you are not comfortable. Just nod. I will understand. You do realize it's rude not to answer questions!!! I understand that your lungs are punctured, and every breath you take is kind of filling your lung cavities like a balloon, and that you would mostly suffocate to death in another... hmm.... five minutes --- but not answering a question is still rude.

You know what, I am having second thoughts on the legitimacy of our conversation, I no longer know what is real and what is unreal. Am I escaping from my domestic duties by creating a victim in you? Are you a real person whom I have just shot? I no longer know what is real. You tell me, is my struggle more important than the hope you are still clinging to? If I really shot you, then your hope is meaningless - You will most probably suffocate and die. If on the other hand you are a figment of my imagination, then your hope and aspirations are an escape for me - I still have hope. But, again, I can hear your labored breath - Are my senses playing a game with me? Do I really exist, or am I your figment of imagination. Maybe you wanted to die, and you created an "assassin" in your mind to free you of your earthly abode. I feel I am your imagination.

I exist for you not to despair.

I exist for you to have "hope".