||•𝗜𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲𝘀 & 𝗢𝗻𝗲-𝗦𝗵𝗼𝘁𝘀•||
ᴄᴏʟʟᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏғ sᴛᴏʀɪᴇs ɪɴᴠᴏʟᴠɪɴɢ ᴊᴇɴɴᴀ ᴏʀᴛᴇɢᴀ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs
𝐈 𝐂𝐀𝐍'𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐄 they're going to be any good- but I can promise to at the very least try.
ᶜʰᵃʳᵃᶜᵗᵉʳˢ ⁱⁿ ᵃˡᵖʰᵃᵇᵉᵗⁱᶜᵃˡ ᵒʳᵈᵉʳ
ᶠᵉᵐᵃˡ...
It was the most exhilarating feeling on this planet. The way your knife plunged repeatedly into the flesh of your latest victim; your mask already discarded on the floor. You found enjoyment in the splatter of crimson that ran down your face. Euphoria floods your system as if someone had distributed a dose of morphine into your veins.
It wasn't ever going to be a feeling you'd ever get tired of; the feeling of gutting someone, of the taste of blood that always seemed to find its way onto your lips. It wasn't a part of your plan to kill tonight, but you never seemed to abide by your own rules.
You'd like to think that you only resorted to murder because you felt like it, and in a way you did. But you were pissed, livid even. Chad Meeks-Martin thought that he could take what was yours, he thought he could get away with touching her. Oh, how wrong he was as your knife continued to penetrate his abdomen.
The life had long since left his eyes, by the time your dark eyes had looked up at his limp form. You were smiling like a complete maniac as you took the blade and gave him a final slash across his throat. You sat still for a bit, admiring your handy work before you got off his body and swiped the blade with your gloved hand, cleaning it of any excess blood. You were in an absolute state of pleasure as you stared down at his unmoving body, you didn't have to worry about Chad trying to steal Tara from you now.
It was tempting at this very moment to cut off his hands, the hands that believed they were privileged enough to touch what was yours. Hands that thought they could try and be a thief and steal from you without facing the proper consequences. "So fucking pathetic."
With one last look at Chad's lifeless form on the ground of his bedroom floor, you picked up your mask, slipped it back on and disappeared through the open window of his apartment, blending and disappearing into the night, making your way down the ladder.
It was amusing, to say the least, how much more exciting it had been to kill Chad, rather than Frankie. Frankie seemed too busy trying to get his dick wet, not even noticing a figure clad in black preparing to impale him with a knife. He had screamed like a little bitch, the music too loud for anyone to even hear him. The girl on the bed was too drunk to even realise the guy she was with was being slaughtered right in front of her.
