[ WP ] You 're a time traveler who stops criminals ... by going back to when they were children and helping them become heroes .

I knew it was time when the movie ended. I readied my gun and pulled the balaclava over my face. I was n't going to enjoy, but it was necessary. They exited the theater through a side door, walking up an alley. 
 
 I walked towards them and revealed my weapon, pointing it at the woman. `` Do n't scream or I'll shoot,'' I said, waving my gun at her purse. `` Toss your purse to me. *Slowly. *'' 
 
 Their little boy began to cry silently, sobbing tears that rolled down his face and bore into my resolve. But this was necessary. The woman threw her genuine leather purse gently to my feet and backed up, hugging her husband without looking away from me. 
 
 I grimaced behind the mask. I did n't want to do this. Yet I did n't have a choice. I pulled the trigger, shooting the woman through the chest. She gasped, a long and raspy, rattling breath, her last breath, before she took no more, and she went slack in her man's arms. 
 
 The child had frozen with shock, eyes wide on their mother, captured by the bloody hole in her dress. The man threw himself at me. I turned in a panic; he was suddenly so close, hands grasping for my throat in mindless anger. Twice I pulled the trigger. Two holes etched themselves in the man's face; his head ripped apart at such close range. 
 
 The child lowered his gaze to the bodies that littered the alleyway and began to shake, his chin wobbled and he sank to the ground. He opened his mouth and started to scream. I ran, leaving behind the child, who was attracting attention. 
 
 No, I did n't want to do this. But it was necessary. The child would go one to save so many people. He'd be a legend. And it'd all started with me, the person who'd murdered his parents. It was done now, and he was on the path he was supposed to be, instead of the path I'd gone down. 
 
 I gazed in the mirror later that night, memorizing the lines of my face; the face that the child would grow into, but his would not be twisted by hatred and betrayal. He would not suffer as I had. 
 
 It had all started on that night, but now it would be different. I had killed my parents, but they were necessary. 
 
 It was necessary. 
 
 I raised the gun to my forehead, the same that I had used to rip holes through a boy's childhood, the same that would now bring me blissful peace. 
 
 And then the gun fell to the floor, because I ceased to exist. 
 
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