Losers

This isn't magic, it's telekinesis.

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The small scalpel came down and made a small incision, cutting a small space along my upper arm. Four hundred ninety-eight scars. I though. Now four hundred ninety-nine. I could throw myself a little self party at five hundred.

On my other arm, they drew another line. Well, there was five hundred.

I let my foggy blue eyes drift over to the other small blades sitting on the metal tray. I let my thoughts consume them as the biggest one started to float.

"She's attacking!" The main doctor man yelled. "Shut her down."

One of the nurses ran over to the machine that was pumping gas into my throat, but not before I could tell the knife to cut the tube.

"Sedate her!" The doctor yelled.

The doctor. He could be my five hundred scars prize. I told the knife to attack him and it did.

"Hands first," I mumbled, still laying down. The same thing he told me when he cut two line against my hand.

The blade cut through air and then the doctors hands. Blood feel from both of the handless arms. He let out an inhuman blood curdling cry.

The blade landed in one of his feet, keeping him to the ground under him.

Finally, I sliced his throat, leaving his body bleeding all over the pure white floor.

I could sense the fear leaking from the other nurses...

And it was beautiful.