Am I here in this boring place for nothing? Of coarse not. I've made my mark and it ain't a pretty one, either. Check the news, 'Faceless Killer', 'Is It One Man?', and, my favorite, 'Move Away!'. It's hilarious. I'm not going to hide it, nope, I'm a murderer. I guess you could call me that. I like to think that I'm playing a game. How long before they catch me? I've lived here for months now and they haven't got the slightest idea as to who I am. 'Why are you so transparent, Lilies?' I hear. It's simple, really, I'm a beautiful, athletic, intelligent, young woman. I know I am, too. 'The greatest weapon is knowing your own' Cackles a voice above me.
"True as tea leaves," I reply to the voice, taking a sip from my black tea.
The voices are nice, very nice. They always help me with everything. They ask questions I'd never of thought of asking, they tell me convenient little tips on how to remain in the dark to the authorities. They told me how to get to where I am now; A dark cabin in the woods that magically has a working power outlet and microwave.
'Tonight,' Hisses a male voice in a sucky fashion, as if it was recorded then played backwards, 'do it tonight, Lilies.' . I find their eagerness cute. I don't need their motivation to grab my knife and have some fun! It's like commanding a kid to play video games all day. Smiling widely, I throw my glass to the wall, laughing when it shatters, and then begin my monologue.
"Ha! A cold night for a cold murderer, I'd say! Nocturnal, I am, yeah! Alone, with one body, I am an army of-" I stop and count the voices muttering between each other in my head-" Six, including myself. A knife, sharpened near always, is my weapon. A knife called Alexander. A knife who is hungry, just like its wielder, for blood. Here I be, talking to myself, talking to my army. Ready for tonights raid, pushing my never-ending game a couple more steps into action. Who else can say they have this much fun?" I snatch blood-covered Alexander off the table as a chorus of, 'Nobody,'s echos through the shack. I hear Alexander purr when I touch him. He knows what my palm means, the eager bastard.
I rush out the door into the moonless night, walking with an obvious strut, golden hair billowing out behind me, into the bright city.
I'm unsure if they could make this place any more colorful. Neon, Neon everywhere. Everything is lit with neon signs, often depicting motion of some sort, a chicken dancing, a woman drinking, and some psychidelic lights moving around in the form of a pyramid, are just some. So many victims. But I know what I want tonight. I want a little girl, white and pretty. That'll get to 'em. Where do you find a little girl under that description at this time of night? Oh, at a bar or casino where their parents are going to be too drunk to notice them slipping away.
I shove my hands into my extra-deep pockets (this is my own doing) and touch Alexander inside his leather sheath, causing him to purr loud enough to shake the building. No one notices, though. They never do. They don't notice my scanning the crowd for the best small prey, either. Probably because it's common for a woman, such as myself, to scan the crowd for possible mates.
Then I see her. Blond hair reaching down to her waist, beautiful, intelligent, blue eyes, and a small cute face. That's a face that I will preserve. Locked onto my target, I maneuver through the mass of alcohol reeking club animals. Left, right, back, forth, I'm like a rogue. This is only the beginning off my gorey adventure, I think as I kneel in front of the girl.
"How are you?" I ask in a sweet voice.
"I'm okay," She replies, "but all these people are annoying and they keep bumping into me!" Folding her arms, she stamps a foot and pulls this cute little pout.
'Hurry,' Hisses a voice, 'hurry up!'.
"Want to head to Cluckin' Bucks, instead?" Ah, kids are suckers for fast food. Spoiled brats. "I'll get you a little cluckers meal." I smile at her.
Her jaw drops. "You would do that, Miss?"
"Yeah, I would" I say, "Want to ride on my shoulders?"
"Yes!" She squeals with delight and hops on my back. "You're the greatest, Miss."
She won't be thinking that for long. I slither through the thick crowd once again and take my victim to one of the best murder stops available; a dark, secluded, ally. As I go deeper into the ally, she asks,
"Where are we going?"
"It's a short cut." I lie quickly. I continue to take the girl down the damp ally. Cats hiss when they see me and run off, knocking some tin trash cans over. Deeper we go, Alexander grows excited, until we each the dead end in the ally. "End of the road."
I throw her off my back, laughing as the air is knocked from her in an innocent little squeak when she hits the concrete. I snap Alexanders red and silver blade out my pocket and he roars. The girl tries to get up and run but, sadly, I catch her arm and slam her back against the brick wall, smiling hungerly as part of the wall is painted red. Then I sink Alexander into her gut, tearing downwards as blood spills down my arm. She's screaming, or was, until I cut her open like a frog on dissection day at school. I tear out her small intestine, cutting off nice, bloody, pieces and place them on the ground. I step back and view my work.
Before me lies a little girl, terror etched onto her beautiful face. Her entrails strung out and pieces cut into neat little pieces and laid out to form the word, "Hi". It's so wonderful.
I pull off my extra shirt (See how clever I am? Deep pockets and two shirts.) and use it to wipe most the blood off my arms and face before leaving my art behind for someone to find. Back through the woods and back to my head quarters, my game base.
Stepping over the shattered glass that my friendly voices so kindly warned me about, I head to the sink, grab a clean-ish glass, and make myself a nice, hot cup of tea.