𝕸𝖀𝕽𝕯𝕰𝕽 | 𝖂𝖊𝖉𝖓𝖊𝖘𝖉𝖆𝖞

𝖕𝖗𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖌𝖚𝖊

~

"I have no idea whose pathetic idea it was to instill within idiotic adolescents that they are anything but mediocre."

The girl's voice was hollow as she sharpened her knife with a flick. 

The crow beside her gave a squawk in answer.

"If anything, their confidence is misplaced, and their cruelty is novice," the girl continued.

Her large, brown eyes scanned the group of teenage boys that were swaggering over to her. It was almost amusing that they were so obnoxious, they were obviously picking on the wrong person.

"Boys," the girl - Aiyla - greeted, as they stopped in front of her. They looked as if they'd wandered out of a bad movie, wearing varsity jackets and holding baseball bats.

"Freak," a large blond brute seethed in reply.

Aiyla visibly cringed, "You Americans are disgusting, this is why the entire world thinks you're brainless and pathetic."

He rolled his eyes and gestured to the bat in his hands, "We don't give a fuck about what anyone thinks. But you flooded the basketball hall, so you're about to get what you deserve."

Aiyla rolled her eyes, "Oh," she smirked as she pretended to think, "Hmm, was that me? I don't think so."

"Bitch," someone snapped.

"Attention-seeker," Aiyla hissed in reply.

The guy in the front, holding the bat, spat at her feet.

For a moment, all Aiyla could see was red.

Rage bubbled up within her and set fire to all of her defences like a wildfire. She stood, clutching her knife and reared it back, before throwing it. A zing sound filled the air as the knife sailed, before the metallic object impaled itself within the boy's throat with a thud.

Crimson flooded his shirt and skin as he gurgled, falling to his knees and letting the bat drop to the ground.

There was a moment of chaos, panic and shock and two of the boys ran to him, falling to the ground to cradle the dying boy in their arms. Another boy picked up the bat and ran to her, swinging the wooden bat wildly in the air.

Aiyla kicked the bat out of the way and sent it flying out of the boy's hand, she threw her fist out and punched him in the face, before pushing him to the ground. 

She ran and jumped onto the next boy, wrapping her legs around his waist and grabbing his shoulders. She headbutted him one, two, three times, then bent backwards until her arms touched the ground and flipped him over her and into the floor.

The last boy also had a bat, he swung it from behind, but Aiyla rolled out of the way. She plunged her fingers into the earth, pulling a rock from the soil and threw it as hard as she could. With a crack it made impact to the boy's head, causing blood to splatter and his eyes to roll to the back of his head and fall.

Humming to herself, Aiyla brushed the dirt off of her hands and pushed past the two sobbing boys, now holding a very dead friend and yanked the knife out of his throat with a tut. "This was my favourite knife," she sighed.

She rolled her eyes and turned, holding an arm out for the crow, and the two walked away nonchalantly as if she hadn't just killed a boy.

Classic Aiyla.