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De la categoría „Horror“ (Relatos Cortos / inglés):

Mikayla Powell

Akward Death

 

The love a beauty of a place could take someones breath away, at night. Unless there breath really was taken away, but from an assassin who happened to be enjoying the view as well. Her breath taken away from the scenry. Awe Paris was such a place of love . . . even alone. She looked behind her taking her attention away from the Effiel Tower to something else. The Paris police. Making a smirk of who knows what she vanishes to a building not far from the scene he ahd caused. It was truely true beatuy to have seen that man who's now cut in various place, his arms and legs sliced so he had bled out. But before that his eyelid had been cut off, so he wouldn't miss anything worth watching, the mans lips had been sowen shut so his voice wouldn't be heard when she did her deed of vengence for someone else. He'd been striped of his clothing and was told to shush politely so no one would hear her or her victim. I strange symbol was carved on him chest, then she cut of each finger so he wouldn't grab at her when she was doing her job. The neck thing that was done was her draining she marked where she'd cut so she wouldn't mes up the perfect perfomrance she was trained so hard to perfom. The legs cut sliced first from the inside so it wouldn't spread as fast outward to form a puddle. The the top of his arms wrist to collar bone. The only things left to cut was his back. She slowly and gracefully turned him over, so he would feel as much pain a possible. The assassin carved another symbol except this one was actually a picture. she drew a dead branch tree with a lake behind. Cranes which were carved so percise you might of thought it was an actual picture of one. Except the crane wa red from blood. She made the symbol she had put on the chest in a what she thought was corner. Turning the man back over she smiled at him wiht joy. smoothing the side of his face she told him everything was going to be ok. The man started to whimper in pain. The tears he shed burned the cut off eye lids and the corners of his sowen mouth. 
"Shh . . . everything's gonna be alllllright. Just be quiet and don't cry. Don't move. Just don't do anything," The assassin said sweetly. The man started to weep loudly even though she told him to stop and his mouth was sowen. Her gentle eyes turned sinister. She grabbed for his face squeezing the sides. Her nails digging into his skin made him cry some more in pain.
"I said don't. What don't you understand? Stop the crying and weeping . . . darling there is no use in doing so. I was told to do this, I'm just doing my job. Everyone does their job don"t they . . . Sure they do" She leaned in real close to his ear and whispered: " The sadest  thing about my job is the end. I can't do anymore torture. Well any that will make you suffer. It was a pleasure spending time with you. And I also take a cup of blood from every victim I kill. It taste good to know what I've killed"
The man looked at her terrified. Taking off a piece of his flesh she squeezed it into a cup. And drank half of it in front of him. "Delicious" Walking over to the water, she looked up at the Effiel Tower, and sighed.



Todos los derechos de „Akward Death“ pertenecen a su autor (Mikayla Powell).
Ha sido publicado en e-Stories.org a solicitud de Mikayla Powell
Publicado en e-Stories.org el 31.07.2010.


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Correo electrónico:illuminating_black.dotsyahoo.com
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