The Last Thing I Remember...

I sit up, clutching at my chest. Christ, it hurts! The last thing I remember is... What is the last thing?

I was at the cabin. Gina and I were arguing. What did I do this time? Think, dammit!

She had a gun. She screamed and cried. I remember that much, but, in my mind, it's all just jumbled sounds. Then the gun went off. She's the one who shot me. Why?

She was upset. No. She was pissed! What the hell did I...

No. Not what I did.

It's what I asked her to do!

It all comes back in a rush. I was tired. Tired of the work they made me do. I had gone through pretty much every injury a human being can go through, and inflicted worse. They would patch me up, then send me off await my next "assignment".

Gina didn't know what I did. I couldn't tell her. That would put her at risk. I had one out, but something they did to me prevented me from ending it myself. So, selfish bastard that I am, I had her do it.

I should have known they wouldn't let me go that easily. But who knew they could bring back the dead?