A distant wail of a police siren pierced the quiet twilight. A lone figure sat on the end of a rooftop building, gazing up at the darkening sky as her hair danced gently in the breeze. The crimson stains on her face were stark against the pale backdrop of her skin, yet they held a sadness tinged with a strange sense of fulfillment.
As the last hint of daylight began to fade and the clamor of police sirens grew louder, the girl found herself amidst a throng of oblivious onlookers, their attention drawn to something on the ground. Cameras flashed as they captured the scene. But a subtle curl graced the girl's lips, and she gracefully departed from the scene, disappearing into the recesses of the night.
Camera flashes continuously took a shot of her lifeless body, lying in a pool of crimson, her face reflecting in the blood-stained pavement.
It was as if a forgotten doll had been carelessly dropped. The blood now flowed like water, its reflection morphing into that of a little girl. She gazed at her reflection, lost in the depths of her own memories, until the liquid stilled once more.
The little girl blinked, as if awakening from a vivid dream, her consciousness returning to the present moment.
YOU ARE READING
The Killer's Next Life
General FictionA depressed college student ended her life after killing her bullies. In the expectations of the "end", she was reincarnated to a fantasy world as the nation's future crown princess.
