PsychoDagger
(?)Community Member
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- Posted: Fri, 16 Feb 2007 13:36:30 +0000
This needs proofreading =p Any help is appreciated xD Don't be surprised if anything in this story sounds incredibly off or stupid, I was very tired when I wrote it.
Any title ideas would be very helpful as well =D
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Delicate rain released from the hostile night sky twinkled in the glow from the streetlights. Concealed partially by a lamppost stood a girl of seventeen, seemingly unconcerned with the ice-cold rainfall. She gazed down the street with an empty look in her eyes. With her left hand she grasped the hilt of her timeworn dagger, and her right hand nonchalantly held a lit cigarette from which she occasionally took a drag. The glare of the streetlight illuminated her, accentuating her presence in the otherwise vacant street. She stood motionless as the night around her whispered secrets to itself.
A loud crash in a nearby alley didn't phase her at all, and she continued to stare dully ahead. A man emerged from the darkness of the alley and limped slowly toward her. She seemed entirely unaware of his existence, and when he came into view and approached her, she still carried the same desolate look in her eyes.
"Can you... help...?" the man said, a pained expression on his face. He stepped closer to her, so that he was almost touching her now. "I just-"
"What?" she said sharply, having chosen just this moment to acknowledge him.
"I need... I need help..." His dirty face peered up into hers and she looked back uncomprehendingly. Then without warning, she jabbed upward with her left hand. The man's already large eyes opened wider. He staggered back a few steps. His mouth gaped open as he tried to scream, but he could only gasp for breath. He dropped to the ground on his hands and knees and began convulsing violently. The girl watched blankly until he stopped moving, and fell over on his side. She tossed the remainder of her cigarette onto the ground and crushed it with her boot. Then she walked over and knelt beside the man, pulled the dagger out of his chest, wiped the fresh blood off onto his shirt, and dragged the body back into the alley from which it had come.
Gripping the dagger tightly, she advanced stealthily down the street. Rain continued to fall around her. Besides the soft patter as water met with concrete, the night was silent. After walking a few blocks, the girl turned into another alleyway. She surveyed it and, finding it empty, sat down beside a decrepit dumpster. Somewhat sheltered from the drizzle, she drew her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes.
Her instincts woke her about an hour later, when two men began prowling the alley. She could hear their footsteps as they crunched against the gravel. She moved closer to the side of the dumpster and flattened herself against it. They were coming from the opposite side, and as they walked past they did not notice her, hidden in the shadows. She watched them carefully until they had reached the far end of the alley, then she sprung up and sprinted back toward the street. Just as she was about to reach it, a shout came from behind.
"Hey!" shouted one of the men. "Wait up, li'l girl!" She didn't pause to look behind her, but quickened her pace and turned onto the street. She paid no attention to where her flight took her, and didn't see the buildings as they flew past her. Moments passed, and her legs began to tire. She risked a glance behind her and saw that the men were still trailing her closely. Hoping that the men weren't very observant, she dodged into the nearest alley. With her back to the wall, she held her dagger at the ready, waiting for the men to stumble into her sight.
However, she was caught off-guard when she was tackled from behind, and the dagger flew from her grip. She was on the ground with a large man on top of her, and though she struggled to break free from his control, nothing came of it. As they wrestled uselessly, the two men came into the alley.
"That's what happens when you try to run from us, sweetheart," said one of them. "You can't escape. We're ever'where." He laughed softly to himself, and the other man grinned widely, showing a row of rotten teeth. The girl stopped fighting against her captor, and he allowed her to stand while he held her arms from behind.
"What?" said the second man. "Aren't ya gonna say anything?" He walked up to her and gently brushed his fingers across her cheek. "Such a sweet girl," he went on. "So pretty..." Abruptly he grabbed her shirt and made a savage attempt to rip it off. Before he had a chance to accomplish this, she lurched forward and headbutted him in the chest. The man standing behind her pulled her back, but before he could react further she kicked back and struck him in the groin. She pulled away while he was occupied with what seemed to be excruciating pain, and tried to flee from the alley.
She had almost made it to the street again when the first man caught her by the leg as she ran past, and she was sent sprawling onto the concrete. She braced her fall with her hands, but a sharp pain shot through her ankle. The man began to drag her back into the alley on her stomach. She reached out with her right arm and grabbed the dagger she had lost earlier. She twisted around and jumped up. The man's grip on her leg threw her off balance, but she used this to her advantage. As she fell to the side, she brought the dagger across his throat, slashing it deeply. He released his grip and gurgling sounds escaped from his mouth. His partner started toward the girl now, but as he lunged for her she dodged to the side and slit his throat in the same way. She turned to glare at he third man who had begun to advance, but he saw the glint in her eye and the calm expression on her face, and instead fled into the darkness.
She turned away from the dead men and stepped back into the street. Aimlessly she wandered for several minutes, dagger hanging uselessly from her hand. She ended up in a park, and sat down on an old wooden bench to rest her ankle. She set her dagger down on the bench beside her, and stared blankly into the distance. The rain stopped falling, and the moon shone brightly, lighting up the area around the girl.
For a long time she didn't move. A rustling sound could be heard nearby, but she paid it no heed. A boy of seventeen was ambling down the pathway. He stared at the ground, oblivious of the girl's presence. He continued on until he came to the bench, at which point he glanced up and spotted her.
"Uhm, hello," he attempted. She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. "What are you doing out at the park at such a late hour?"
She didn't respond, but simply kept eye contact with him as she slid over on the bench, closer to the dagger and farther from the boy. He sat down on the bench beside her, and gazed out at the deserted park.
"I come out for walks sometimes at night, too," he said. "It's nice here. Quiet." He looked back at the girl, who had never shifted her eyes away from him. "Are you... all right?" he asked, concerned.
At first she did nothing, but then she carefully nodded. As she continued looking into his eyes, she found something that caused her relentless glare to soften. The boy had only been sitting there for a minute at most, but she felt inexplicably drawn to him.
"I, j-just," she stuttered, "-just ran into a bit of... trouble." She wasn't used to revealing even this much to a complete stranger, but there was something about this boy that made things like that seem... all-right.
He smiled at her, and she felt her lips trying to move in an imitation of his. It was impossible, though, and instead of smiling, tears came to her eyes. The boy reached over and took her hand in his. The smile fell from his face, and his eyes seemed to speak to hers. Don't cry. What's wrong? they asked helplessly. But she didn't know how to answer. She hardly knew the answer herself.
The twelve-year-old girl stood in the kitchen with her foster father. "You're useless!" he screamed at her. "Get out of my house! No one needs you here. No one loves you, and no one ever will!" The supposed truth behind those words sent the girl out into the streets, where she had to learn to fend for herself. It meant either learning the art of homicide, or risking her own life to the predators lurking around every corner. This girl meant to survive, no matter what the cost.
The boy on the bench next to her was brushing her cheek with his fingers. Instead of being repulsed, she found that she actually enjoyed the sensation. She tried to reach out to him, to touch him in some way, but she found it wasn't quite that easy. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to do it. This inability to understand scared her, and she turned away from him. Upon breaking the gaze they had held, her eyes grew empty again. She reached behind her with her left hand for the dagger. She held it up in front of her and watched it glisten in the moonlight.
"What-" the boy jumped back. "-what are you doing? What is that?" The girl turned toward him again. Instead of connecting with his as they had before, her eyes looked right through him. Before he could move to defend himself, she stood over him, holding the knife to his chest. "What... Don't..." he begged. His breathing quickened, and his eyes pleaded for her to let him go, to not hurt him. But she saw nothing. Expressionless and calm, she thrust the dagger forward.
Startled, she glanced wildly around as if she had just woken from a dream. She saw the boy on the bench, dagger lodged in his chest. Dead. She reached for the dagger, but as she wrapped her fingers around the hilt, she caught a glimpse of the sadness still held in his eyes. She swallowed, released her grip on the dagger, and slowly turned and walked down the path as the sun began to appear over the horizon.
Any title ideas would be very helpful as well =D
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Delicate rain released from the hostile night sky twinkled in the glow from the streetlights. Concealed partially by a lamppost stood a girl of seventeen, seemingly unconcerned with the ice-cold rainfall. She gazed down the street with an empty look in her eyes. With her left hand she grasped the hilt of her timeworn dagger, and her right hand nonchalantly held a lit cigarette from which she occasionally took a drag. The glare of the streetlight illuminated her, accentuating her presence in the otherwise vacant street. She stood motionless as the night around her whispered secrets to itself.
A loud crash in a nearby alley didn't phase her at all, and she continued to stare dully ahead. A man emerged from the darkness of the alley and limped slowly toward her. She seemed entirely unaware of his existence, and when he came into view and approached her, she still carried the same desolate look in her eyes.
"Can you... help...?" the man said, a pained expression on his face. He stepped closer to her, so that he was almost touching her now. "I just-"
"What?" she said sharply, having chosen just this moment to acknowledge him.
"I need... I need help..." His dirty face peered up into hers and she looked back uncomprehendingly. Then without warning, she jabbed upward with her left hand. The man's already large eyes opened wider. He staggered back a few steps. His mouth gaped open as he tried to scream, but he could only gasp for breath. He dropped to the ground on his hands and knees and began convulsing violently. The girl watched blankly until he stopped moving, and fell over on his side. She tossed the remainder of her cigarette onto the ground and crushed it with her boot. Then she walked over and knelt beside the man, pulled the dagger out of his chest, wiped the fresh blood off onto his shirt, and dragged the body back into the alley from which it had come.
Gripping the dagger tightly, she advanced stealthily down the street. Rain continued to fall around her. Besides the soft patter as water met with concrete, the night was silent. After walking a few blocks, the girl turned into another alleyway. She surveyed it and, finding it empty, sat down beside a decrepit dumpster. Somewhat sheltered from the drizzle, she drew her knees up to her chest and closed her eyes.
Her instincts woke her about an hour later, when two men began prowling the alley. She could hear their footsteps as they crunched against the gravel. She moved closer to the side of the dumpster and flattened herself against it. They were coming from the opposite side, and as they walked past they did not notice her, hidden in the shadows. She watched them carefully until they had reached the far end of the alley, then she sprung up and sprinted back toward the street. Just as she was about to reach it, a shout came from behind.
"Hey!" shouted one of the men. "Wait up, li'l girl!" She didn't pause to look behind her, but quickened her pace and turned onto the street. She paid no attention to where her flight took her, and didn't see the buildings as they flew past her. Moments passed, and her legs began to tire. She risked a glance behind her and saw that the men were still trailing her closely. Hoping that the men weren't very observant, she dodged into the nearest alley. With her back to the wall, she held her dagger at the ready, waiting for the men to stumble into her sight.
However, she was caught off-guard when she was tackled from behind, and the dagger flew from her grip. She was on the ground with a large man on top of her, and though she struggled to break free from his control, nothing came of it. As they wrestled uselessly, the two men came into the alley.
"That's what happens when you try to run from us, sweetheart," said one of them. "You can't escape. We're ever'where." He laughed softly to himself, and the other man grinned widely, showing a row of rotten teeth. The girl stopped fighting against her captor, and he allowed her to stand while he held her arms from behind.
"What?" said the second man. "Aren't ya gonna say anything?" He walked up to her and gently brushed his fingers across her cheek. "Such a sweet girl," he went on. "So pretty..." Abruptly he grabbed her shirt and made a savage attempt to rip it off. Before he had a chance to accomplish this, she lurched forward and headbutted him in the chest. The man standing behind her pulled her back, but before he could react further she kicked back and struck him in the groin. She pulled away while he was occupied with what seemed to be excruciating pain, and tried to flee from the alley.
She had almost made it to the street again when the first man caught her by the leg as she ran past, and she was sent sprawling onto the concrete. She braced her fall with her hands, but a sharp pain shot through her ankle. The man began to drag her back into the alley on her stomach. She reached out with her right arm and grabbed the dagger she had lost earlier. She twisted around and jumped up. The man's grip on her leg threw her off balance, but she used this to her advantage. As she fell to the side, she brought the dagger across his throat, slashing it deeply. He released his grip and gurgling sounds escaped from his mouth. His partner started toward the girl now, but as he lunged for her she dodged to the side and slit his throat in the same way. She turned to glare at he third man who had begun to advance, but he saw the glint in her eye and the calm expression on her face, and instead fled into the darkness.
She turned away from the dead men and stepped back into the street. Aimlessly she wandered for several minutes, dagger hanging uselessly from her hand. She ended up in a park, and sat down on an old wooden bench to rest her ankle. She set her dagger down on the bench beside her, and stared blankly into the distance. The rain stopped falling, and the moon shone brightly, lighting up the area around the girl.
For a long time she didn't move. A rustling sound could be heard nearby, but she paid it no heed. A boy of seventeen was ambling down the pathway. He stared at the ground, oblivious of the girl's presence. He continued on until he came to the bench, at which point he glanced up and spotted her.
"Uhm, hello," he attempted. She slowly lifted her gaze to meet his. "What are you doing out at the park at such a late hour?"
She didn't respond, but simply kept eye contact with him as she slid over on the bench, closer to the dagger and farther from the boy. He sat down on the bench beside her, and gazed out at the deserted park.
"I come out for walks sometimes at night, too," he said. "It's nice here. Quiet." He looked back at the girl, who had never shifted her eyes away from him. "Are you... all right?" he asked, concerned.
At first she did nothing, but then she carefully nodded. As she continued looking into his eyes, she found something that caused her relentless glare to soften. The boy had only been sitting there for a minute at most, but she felt inexplicably drawn to him.
"I, j-just," she stuttered, "-just ran into a bit of... trouble." She wasn't used to revealing even this much to a complete stranger, but there was something about this boy that made things like that seem... all-right.
He smiled at her, and she felt her lips trying to move in an imitation of his. It was impossible, though, and instead of smiling, tears came to her eyes. The boy reached over and took her hand in his. The smile fell from his face, and his eyes seemed to speak to hers. Don't cry. What's wrong? they asked helplessly. But she didn't know how to answer. She hardly knew the answer herself.
The twelve-year-old girl stood in the kitchen with her foster father. "You're useless!" he screamed at her. "Get out of my house! No one needs you here. No one loves you, and no one ever will!" The supposed truth behind those words sent the girl out into the streets, where she had to learn to fend for herself. It meant either learning the art of homicide, or risking her own life to the predators lurking around every corner. This girl meant to survive, no matter what the cost.
The boy on the bench next to her was brushing her cheek with his fingers. Instead of being repulsed, she found that she actually enjoyed the sensation. She tried to reach out to him, to touch him in some way, but she found it wasn't quite that easy. She didn't know what to do. She didn't know how to do it. This inability to understand scared her, and she turned away from him. Upon breaking the gaze they had held, her eyes grew empty again. She reached behind her with her left hand for the dagger. She held it up in front of her and watched it glisten in the moonlight.
"What-" the boy jumped back. "-what are you doing? What is that?" The girl turned toward him again. Instead of connecting with his as they had before, her eyes looked right through him. Before he could move to defend himself, she stood over him, holding the knife to his chest. "What... Don't..." he begged. His breathing quickened, and his eyes pleaded for her to let him go, to not hurt him. But she saw nothing. Expressionless and calm, she thrust the dagger forward.
Startled, she glanced wildly around as if she had just woken from a dream. She saw the boy on the bench, dagger lodged in his chest. Dead. She reached for the dagger, but as she wrapped her fingers around the hilt, she caught a glimpse of the sadness still held in his eyes. She swallowed, released her grip on the dagger, and slowly turned and walked down the path as the sun began to appear over the horizon.
