Knave turned Knight

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"Mad fearlessness is not courage. The only requirement for courage is a good heart." – Richelle E. Goodrich


"I'm not going to ask again."

"Then don't!"

"Would you prefer the left or the right eye?"

"I prefer to keep them both, thank you!"

Impatient, Alexis raised her knife and jammed it next to him without taking her eyes of his, which made him squeal like a girl from the fear in his eyes; a pungent urine smell suddenly came that made her pan her eyes down to his pants and found it drenched. Disgusted by him, she released her hold on his shirt and allowed the Hispanic looking man to fall onto his own puddle of wee. She took her knife from the floor and turned to the other person in the room, eyeing him with an indifferent yet murderous gaze.

Slowly, she made her way towards him whilst glaring him down with indifference across her face, but she was holding back a smile; her blood was pumping from the way they felt somewhat helpless from her which just proved how good she was at her job. Stooping down to his level, she inched the knife to his neck as the young abled, but wounded man, looked back at her with an equally menacing look in his eyes.

"Unless you want to wet yourself," she whispered as she held him by his shirt and pulled him closer to the knife, eliciting a soft groan from the sharpness of the knife, "I suggest you tell me what you know."

Deckard smirked defiantly and inched even closer to Alexis, "Go to hell."

For a moment, they held stares as she looked into his eyes and found nothing but a fire inside; it intrigued her as she noticed something peculiar in his irises that made her scoff. So that's how it is, she thought as she released her grip on his shirt as much as she retracted the knife from his neck.

Standing up, she walked away from both of them and headed for the living room, leaving both of them to rot in the basement. Her impatience was getting the best of her and to have her prey be so near yet turn out to be so far had frustrated her; she hunted Katherine down from state to state and to finally pinned her down, it was a triumph for her.

To have her escape her grasp, it was disturbing and at the same time humiliating; how can something like that escape her. Holding her temples, she stopped at the end of the staircase, just past the basement door, and took a deep breath to calm her rising urge to kill; the hunt has lingered in her thoughts that blood has not been spilled for so long. She has been holding back on her anger, on her urge to slice every living thing in her sight.

I need to ease my mind, she tried to calm herself and paced towards the nearly ruined kitchen; there was clutter everywhere and fragments of porcelain were scattered all over the floor that could cut anyone who walked in bare foot. Soft clinks echoed in each foot step as she walked over to the refrigerator to help herself to some cola stacked in the back, behind the yoghurt.

Popping open the can, the frizz escaped and made a small sound of bubbles popping before she took a quick sip whilst walking over to the counter; she leant against the marble and set the can down, exhaling from the rising gas in her stomach. She closed her eyes, but immediately heard a noise from the backyard that made her spring up from the counter and slowly made her way to investigate.

Heartbeat on edge, she snuck silently towards the backyard but her footsteps stood still as she heard the glass pane door slide open; she hugged the wall and leant her back against the wall as she listened carefully to the sudden guest she did not foresee arrive. Listening to the loud stomps, she could hear the footsteps draw closer and closer, making her think that this intruder knew not what he had expected to find here.

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