Requested by: Nagisa_Is_Senpai
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Alia: A highly trained, terribly ruthless serial killer, recognised and renowned for slaughtering professional assassins. You hid your face and name. Prolific – randomly killing civilians to relieve your boredom or stress. Your status as 'Yet to be Identified' allowed you to murder even in daylight, as long as you strayed from the bustling streets.
The code name you had given yourself, Alia, was found written in the victim's blood at every scene. Thus, the country-wide manhunt to detain the most lethal killer of the age began.
You wandered the peaceful alleyways of Kyoto, admiring all the lanterns and quaint houses you passed. A feeling of tranquillity passed through your body, making you shiver. You wondered if the wind blowing across you could twirl your parasol.
"I think it's over this way."
Coming to a sharp halt upon hearing the voice of a teenager, (someone around your age) your eyes glossed over in thought.
A school trip?
One glance around the dimly lit alley confirmed your theory. There was a group of no more than six making swiftly to your person. They had not noticed you. Otherwise they might have followed a different route. Throwing on a cold demeanour, your parasol lowered to atone for your lack of facial coverage, you sauntered unhurriedly out of the back street.
The group barely perceived your presence – being too caught up in the large book they were fixated on. Without a sound, you walked in the direction from which they had emerged.
One person observed you closely. So much that you raised the parasol, locking eyes with him for less than a minute. But that was all it took to enamour you. The orb visible to him widened, recording his own golden ones into your memory. Now feeling exposed, you turned hastily, picking up speed as you scurried down the street.
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Ever since, thoughts of those alluring mercury eyes, and devilish red hair swirled around your mind, until you found yourself stood outside Kunugigaoka Junior High. You looked marginally out of place – fresh blood spatters staining the white dress shirt you wore.
Your attire was innocently different to that of a normal student, but different none-the-less. You had to find some clothes.
Someone yelled incoherently into a phone, shoving past you as they ran. A girl; and she must have been fifteen. Not once did she atone for her reckless actions. She was stilled by an unwavering hand on her shoulder. Turning in clear annoyance to face her 'attacker', she made a distasteful face.
"What is your problem? Can't you see I'm on the phone?" The female yelled, while simultaneously complaining about you to her friend.
Reasoning that it was your swiftest and easiest option, the tip of a blade visible in your palm, you stabbed the girl, causing a flurry of screams and unsanitary words to fall from her mouth. She tried to run; to escape from you, but a kick to her wound made her compliant.
Dragging the girl by her hair and depositing her in a secluded area of the campus, your knife scarred her throat, a lovely crimson liquid trickling onto her shirt.
You proceeded to remove the necessary items – blazer, skirt and shoes. Pleasantly surprised that everything fit, you kneeled on the ground to dislodge your weapon. As you twisted it out of the female, a sound of disgust was produced behind you.
