Fighting against Homicide

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        I faced a hansome young man, about 15. He had shaggy blonde hair, the ends of it tipped with red. His eyes were all black, and he wore all black. Black sweatshirt, black jeans, black shoes. He was extremely pale, almost like a cloud. He pulled out an axe and smiled wildly at me, head cocked to the side.

       "Im sorry, my love, but your time has come to an end." He said.

"You sure? Better watch yourself." I replied. "Bring it on."

Then he charged me. And I realized my time was up. I slashed and got him in the shoulder, but that didnt stop him. He didt even wince or look at the gash I left with the end of my scissors. He slashed at me but I dodged it. I turned around, and took out the pin that held my scissors together and they turned into two identical daggers. I turend back around, to the sight of a man putting an axe in my chest where my heart was. I dropped to the ground.

"Now I can finally have your heart, my love. I love you."

I saw a single tear swell up in his eye, and he started to cry.

"No-" I said, my consiousness fading. "Why-"

"Because I wanted your heart, love. Goodbye." He slashed at me again, and I was-

DEAD.

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