She had gone by several names. Neko. Skye. Amber. This was the first time she had been called a killer. Skye was on the run: it had been 3 days since she learned that the spy was on to her. Her. Skye was the new girl. She had just moved to this city, and was one of the few female residents. She lived through the first serial killer, and then decided to follow in his tracks. But James had messed up. He had only claimed 3 victims before the spy got to him. Now the spy was hot on her trail, probably from some stupid mistake she made in her murders. It amused her greatly that although the spy knew who she was, both Skye and the mob were able to claim their 4th victims. What did it matter to her that her death drew near? Another man already lay dead in his blood, her final kill. She used an Uzi, because who didn't know she was the killer. She half expected Neo to execute her there and then. In the distance, she heard a clock strike 11pm.
"Neko..." a familiar voice sounded behind her. Skye took off, her feet pounding the pavement. "It was you wasn't it?! Dammit Neko, answer me!!" H ran after her, the baseball bat used in so many executions in his hand.He caught up and swung at her head. She ducked under the piece of wood and took out her blade. It found it's way into his forearm, which, in retrospect, was better than in his heart. His next blow broke her knee, and she crumpled down against the wall, where he broke her other one. "I trusted you!" he shouted angrily. "Zak, Alex, Raven, Neo... it was all you!?"
"No." Skye clenched her teeth, twisting her face into a smile. "I'd also like credit for the mob executions of Takeshi, Schizzy, Steak, Michi." she said smugly. H picked up her knife and stuck them through her hands, pinning her to the wall. Hman and Pm0n3y rounded the corner, panting, their eyes darting from H to Skye. Pm0n3y nodded grimly as he picked up a heavy brick.
"Sorry Skye. You've been voted out." He hurled it at her face. It connected with a crack, and blood began to trickle from her nose.
"A stoning huh... how... archaic."
The second hit broke her jaw. The third blinded her. Or was it the fourth? Again and again they struck her, each hit receiving less and less of a reaction. Blood splattered onto the wall, a fireworks display of skull fragments and brain matter. Finally, H bent down and checked her pulse. Nothing.
...
The sun rose on the beaten, broken, bloody corpse of Skye. Her legs were twisted in an awkward position, her bones visible through the broken skin. Her head was down, and slightly caved in. Her arms still hung over her head, dried blood caking her hair. The sun rose on the body of a young girl, killed on the morning of her 19th birthday.
The game is over. The killer is dead.
"Neko..." a familiar voice sounded behind her. Skye took off, her feet pounding the pavement. "It was you wasn't it?! Dammit Neko, answer me!!" H ran after her, the baseball bat used in so many executions in his hand.He caught up and swung at her head. She ducked under the piece of wood and took out her blade. It found it's way into his forearm, which, in retrospect, was better than in his heart. His next blow broke her knee, and she crumpled down against the wall, where he broke her other one. "I trusted you!" he shouted angrily. "Zak, Alex, Raven, Neo... it was all you!?"
"No." Skye clenched her teeth, twisting her face into a smile. "I'd also like credit for the mob executions of Takeshi, Schizzy, Steak, Michi." she said smugly. H picked up her knife and stuck them through her hands, pinning her to the wall. Hman and Pm0n3y rounded the corner, panting, their eyes darting from H to Skye. Pm0n3y nodded grimly as he picked up a heavy brick.
"Sorry Skye. You've been voted out." He hurled it at her face. It connected with a crack, and blood began to trickle from her nose.
"A stoning huh... how... archaic."
The second hit broke her jaw. The third blinded her. Or was it the fourth? Again and again they struck her, each hit receiving less and less of a reaction. Blood splattered onto the wall, a fireworks display of skull fragments and brain matter. Finally, H bent down and checked her pulse. Nothing.
...
The sun rose on the beaten, broken, bloody corpse of Skye. Her legs were twisted in an awkward position, her bones visible through the broken skin. Her head was down, and slightly caved in. Her arms still hung over her head, dried blood caking her hair. The sun rose on the body of a young girl, killed on the morning of her 19th birthday.
The game is over. The killer is dead.
, and no problem.