The lights on the side of the high buildings were only a small bright spot in the darkness of the side street. The cloak of blackness formed a perfect setting for what was about to come.
"Please! I don't want to die, I just don't want to die!" A young guy cried, but in the middle of the night there was no one to help him. Most buildings were abandoned, or soundproof against the noise of the city.
"There's no need to scream, it's not like anybody is going to hear you, Travis." The silhouette moved the blade upwards to the throat of the boy.
"Please, I just want to go home, I'll leave you alone. I can't die, I don't want to die!"
There was a soft chuckle. Then the voice whispered into the guy's ear. "Dying is not so bad, Travis. See it as... a gift. Besides, you deserved it." The figure stepped back, leaving Travis gasping for air. "You see, I did not quite like this." The silhouette revealed a letter, in the colour red. Hearts were spread across the page.
"Oh my god, that letter. It's you, oh my- I'm sorry, I really am. I didn't mean to actually send it, but my friends put me under pressure!" Travis screamed the last words when the silhouette came closer. "You don't have to do this. I said I'm sorry - I know it is too late but I wish I had never sent it. I'm so sorry."
"I'm sorry too."
At that moment, Travis felt a sharp pain in his stomach. The blade pierced through his body, and then it was withdrawn. The pain was worse than anything he had ever felt. He fell to his knees, but he wasn't crying. No, the pain was too bad to be able to cry.
After that, there was only a snapping sound of a breaking neck. The lights in Travis' eyes went out, and the street was as abandoned as it had been before.
YOU ARE READING
Behind the books
Teen FictionDriven by hate and vengeance, a mysterious serial killer terrorises a town. No one gets one step closer to locking this 'psycho' away. Ciara Nevin is the nerd of her class, and done with the stupid comments. I hope you understand, but it's never a g...
