Name: Amelia Diane Ross
From: New York City
Age: 37
Reason for Kill: Underground Drug Operation

That was all I got. Every time I was ordered a kill, that was what I got. The most simple description there could ever be for a person. In just four lines, it has defined the person in being some crazy maniac who deserved death.

Even though no one deserves death. But that's my job. Killing people. So why am I like this?

The truth is I do not know. I think it has to do with how I got into the profession, which is another time to tell.

Anyway, I believe there is more to each of these people than those four lines. So since I am ordered to kill them, why not give them one more chance to see or do something they've always wanted to? Why not give them peace?

I write the following under the bland note:

Background: She was forced into the drug business, as it was either that, or become a sex slave. She has never done any of the drugs she has made. She is a young soul, who just wants to live a normal life. She is Amelia, and she wanted peace.
One wish: To see the sunrise at the Grand Canyon...

I open my journal to page twenty-two. I tape in the kill order, and my personal notes. I tape in a picture of her I took on the Grand Canyon. I tape a picture of the Rainflower, which has been left with her.

Twenty-two people I have killed so far, and to my boss it's just another tally mark. But twenty-two people, twenty-two actual breathing living souls is what I have taken from this world. And it pains me every time to flip through this journal, and see all of their beautiful faces.

All of these people, who just needed help. All of these people who didn't need to die. All of these people who just someone to give them a hand.

And that's why I do it. Because just giving them even one small chance to do anything they've ever dreamed of, is just one way I can help their suffering.

To Amelia I wish you the most brightest future in the stars. And...

A soft knock at the door. A white envelope appears under it. I pick it up and tear it oven with my hands.

It's another one. From Him.

I pull out the small note. It reads:

Name: Jeremiah Beatrice Stone
From: Atlanta, Georgia
Age: 39
Reason for kill: Sex Trafficker

I nod my head slowly and stuff the note in my journal to page twenty-three. I quickly pack my few things and walk out of the motel room.

To Atlanta...