The Hero's Journey-Original Writing

The turbid water gently engulfed her leather boots, tarnishing them more and more with every step. The street lights issued a lambent, orange glow into the surrounding area, accompanied by an ominous feeling that threaded through her every breath. The familiar throbbing of her pulse in her ears, the very testament of her existence, was slowly retreating. Instead, she could feel her anxious heart clasping the fabric of her chest tighter with every street corner.
Rubbish floated aimlessly about the empty street as the moon sailed across the night sky like a ghostly galleon. She dug her hands deeper into her pockets despite knowing that they would still be vulnerable to the pulverising cold.
The wind was slowly starting to pick up, gently kissing
She immediately withdrew the knife and returned it to her pocket, all whilst ignorant of the tepid blood that coated it. The lethal wound was gradually submerged in a crimson flood as the rain-saturated his clothes.
Her hands shook vigorously as she was overtaken by a paroxysm of poignancy. As she watched her victim gradually bleed out, she fell to her knees beside him and cradled his body.
"No!" she managed to choke into his soft brown curls as she intertwined his bloodied fingers into her own.
The revelation of the mistake she had made paralysed her mind as she let out an inconsolable howl. She had mistakenly killed her own brother.
Her brother: the only family she had left. The one who rescued her time and time again from the notorious hunters.
For all of her childhood, her dreams were purloined by the Rellik, the callous hunter assigned to slaughter in cold blood those who were born to an unwedded mother.
Her life had always played out in perpetual motion; constantly running and hiding. Tonight would have been her chance to fight back. She had been trained to end the torture that a corrupted government had so abhorrently inflicted on the
The safe house that would inculcate her to become the Killer that she was.
She had been the most competent fighter; her skill level had far transcended that of others at the camp. She also boasted an ineludible and coruscating charm, yet another prowess that marked her credible for the assignment.
She felt her veins palpitate with vehement vexation as her entire body burned with an incessant flame of vindictiveness. The placid force of the rain now acted as a war drum that dictated her mind. A switch had flipped.
All at once, lustrous metal pierced delicate skin. Her body lurched as her feet gave way beneath her. She could almost feel the blood percolate her clothes, a sensation which brought her an incongruous pleasure.
Her body collided with the gelid concrete that was now coated in her brother's blood. Agony shot up her spine as she felt her consciousness slowly slip through her fingers. Undoubtedly, she had been shot, but the relish of gushing blood that doused her hand marked a dastardly grin on her face. Her vision slowly faded into darkness…
*
“So that was your final