Thyla wiped her knife clean on the grass and sheathed it with a tired sigh. She rolled the recently created corpse of the young soldier over with her toe and looked down on the twisted, terrified face with the usual vague feeling of distaste that expressed itself at about this time. Why couldn't they be more dignified when they died?

Crouching down beside him and ignoring the stench, Thyla went through the boy's pockets for any useful possessions. She scored some rations, a pistol and some bullets and a rather attractive silver lighter. She pulled out one of her favourite cigarettes and used the lighter for its intended purpose. Puffing on the cigarette, she resumed her searching until she found the lad's wallet. She opened it and flicked through it, pocketing the money. There wasn't anything else useful in there, so she tossed it on top of the body without even bothering to find out the name of the unfortunate soldier she had found it necessary to kill.

Of course, she had left it too late. Upon reflection, she thought she probably should have quietly cleansed herself of his burdensome presence long ago when she first became aware of him. She had known from the moment he had turned up that she was going to have to kill him. But, foolishly and perhaps a little hopefully she had ignored him and let him trail her for a few days with the inexplicit notion that perhaps he would think better of his present situation and wander off to find something more constructive to do. As a consequence, she had almost ended up with one of his fine pistol's bullets in her gut. The carelessness depressed her. Relying on being able to throw a knife faster than someone could draw a gun and shoot was complete folly and she knew it. It was also a teriffic way to get herself killed. She knew that, too.

Thyla brushed a strand of her short, blonde hair out of her face with mild irritation. One day she ought to get hold of some scissors and cut her hair properly rather than just hacking it off with her trusty old knife. Beside her, the body twitched as parystalsis set in. Usually this would hold her casual interest for a while - she thought it slightly amusing that bodies were never quite ready to give up despite the fact that they were quite obviously on their own now and couldn't live without the brain - but today she ignored it.
Why did they keep sending these incompetent soldiers after her? She had caught one and asked him once. He had been a little bit incoherent due to the enormous quantities of adrenalin saturating his blood, but he had insisted that his orders were to get down on his hands and knees and beg for her to go with him. He had actually done it, too.

"Please, Thyla, we're desperate! We need you."

He had also promised that she would get paid an exorbitant salary and receive all the perks that a general got. She didn't believe a word of it and had killed him not too long after when he caused her to be gripped by a sudden fit of sheer disgust.

If only they weren't all so stupid and inept. Then maybe she'd spare a few and maim them instead of just killing them all. Even as the thought entered her head, she knew there wasn't and never would be any conviction behind it. Even a soldier with no hands could be annoyingly dangerous, not to mention the ones that had been left with their hands attached. It was a foolish thought, just like the one that maybe the soldier would think better of it and leave her alone.

They had sent women once or twice, which had been different enough to appeal to Thyla's playful curiosity. That's right, there had been two. The second one had been a rather attractive redhead that Thyla had snared because she was bored and mildly intrigued by the pretty girl. Thyla had amused herself by dragging the girl around with her for a few days, alternating between being talkatively friendly and nonchalantly brutal until she tired of the girl's incessant tears, tantrums, abuse and pleas and had left her dangling from a branch where she had strung her up for target practice as punishment for being a bore. Thyla had especially found the girl's relentless denials that she was there to kill Thyla considerably irritating. There to request her help indeed! Did the girl think she was stupid? What had started off as entertainment for Thyla rapidly degenerated into a pain in the neck, and so she left the redhead with a rather severe one just to let her know what it was like. Apparently the lowly brutes that were after her found out what had happened to their pretty redhead, for they hadn't sent any women since. Thyla's theory was that they thought she would be less inclined to kill women for some mysterious reason. Well, she'd brought them up sharply on that score.

Thyla took one last drag of her cigarette and put it out by squashing it on the log she had taken up as a bench for the moment. She really should quit that filthy habit, she thought as she flicked the butt away. It landed on the young soldier's carcase but Thyla didn't notice, or at least, if she did she didn't particularly care. With a gusty sigh she stood up and stretched lazily. She wondered idly when they would send another pesky soldier to shadow her and attempt yet again to kill her.

As she walked away, she examined the pistol she had aquired such a short time ago and scoffed with ironic humour. The bloody thing wasn't even loaded! He had been far too slow when he saw her as he hadn't even gotten the pistol into his hands before she had nailed him, but even if he had drawn fast enough to catch her out, he would have had to put some bullets in first. She chuckled at her earlier thoughts that it had been a near miss. The poor imbecile back there hadn't even been carrying a loaded gun! What kind of soldier was he, anyway? She shrugged and disappeared into the forest, still smiling and shaking her head.