The Death Girl

Prologue

PROLOGUE

The full moon cast a silver-ish glow on the gravestones and the fallen leaves on the ground. The sky was clear and trees were stripped of their greenery. The autumn leaving behind only bare, crooked bones of trees. As I ran through the town cemetery, another autumn intending to bare me to the bones followed behind.

“Stop, child.” The voice beckoned. All the hunters had their personal weapon, a secret one. This one behind me used the weapon of deception. The face of innocence and compassion, the veil of religion, the words of brotherhood and unity and the garb of truth. There can be no better disguise and it made me feel bare against my own.

“You killed her, my best friend.” I shouted as nearly tripped over a branch. I couldn’t be slow now. The only person who knew this cemetery better than me was the one behind me. I held on a gravestone until I realized it was new, actually half-dug. My blood boiled. This was the grave of the fourth girl. The girl I saw him end.

I can’t run. I can’t become another victim and disappear. Become a memory of a girl, who was bad because she was different. It won’t be long before she would be forgotten. I didn’t want to be forgotten. I wanted someone to remember, mourn me, miss me. But there was no one, I knew.

Sounds of leaves crunching filled the silence as footsteps neared me. I grabbed the shovel beside the grave. I was panting and sweating as I brought the shovel close to my chest. I felt oddly protected, I realized I only needed a weapon. I took a deep breathe as I hid behind a tree. The hot stale air made my lungs feel stuffy with a burning sensation. I resisted the urge to cough.

I peeked a little from the side to see him running towards my direction. He was fast for his age, maybe it was a lie, too. I readied myself. The moment he passed by the tree, I swung the shovel straight at his face. He fell on his back, holding his bleeding purple nose. It was like, choose whether to kill or get killed. I just made my choice. Call me selfish or strong-willed. I don’t care for either because only one thing matter to me right now. I won’t be the fifth girl.

“Aislinn, please. You are not this.” He pleaded in a strange nasal voice. I laughed bitterly and kicked him in his side, below his chest. He rolled over in pain, still clutching his nose.

“Four girls! Goddammit, four! My best friend, what did she do? I saw you finish up the fourth girl. It’s the only thing I regret, to not be able to save her. Not be able to do something. But I won’t stop this time.” He turned back to look back at me. He must have saw something, because he was suddenly afraid. Maybe he saw the finality in my eyes or the truth of my words.

He started as the predator but in the end, he was the prey. Beaten in his own territory and to be ended by his own prey. Those fearful eyes and pleading expression reminded me of the last look the fourth girl gave before the final strike. That was my undoing and it was the last sane thought before I struck the final blow myself. I closed my eyes and turned my back to the remaining shell of a man who taught me to pray.

I walked back home, knowing they, my sleepy townspeople, will find out eventually. I just killed someone, but I wasn’t feeling broken or sad or something. I just felt like…justice had been served. But, really who was I to walk around and distribute justice like candies. A seventeen year old girl? The girl who had the criminal record for the spray-painting? The girl nicknamed trouble? It didn’t matter, because in the end I knew what will be in the reports. Cause of death: Aislinn Carter.

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