The Beginning

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Dedicated to Princess_Moon_Angel for always voting cause it means the world to me! 

No one was safe. It's actually kind of funny since she's right. No one was safe with the facility doing God knows what to our youth. Of course Radio Lady means no one is safe from me, but we can just ignore that little detail. 

Romeo sat on the couch playing with an old video game he found on the streets. He's hurting, I knew that when we were still in the shack. You might think I'm even more of a heartless monster now since I'm not addressing his emotions or lack of but... I'm not very good with comforting. No one ever comforted me after Grace left, it's a skill I never learned. So I was simply too uncomfortable to help the poor boy out. 

And he never brought it up, I guess he too was uncomfortable talking about his emotions. I wonder what his dad was like... was he strict? Did he leave Romeo alone to himself while he was away working for hours?

Or was he an amazing father who did everything he could to keep Romeo smiling...? That thought troubled me, because if so I just took Romeo away from his happiness. Just like the facility took away mine. But I'm not like the facility, I did all of this to help him, not to hurt him. So why did I feel so guilty?

I was so used to being on my own. From my first kill when I was 12 until now.

...

I have never ever felt so angry, but that was the absolute only emotion I could comprehend. My hand clenched tight as I stalked Richard Miller. He was walking home from the demented building and had such a calm expression you'd never guess that he was responsible for the death of several children.

Including Grace.

He killed my best and only friend. He had to pay. He just had to! I suffered from the loss of my 'sister', he has to know how I felt. And if he can't feel it emotionally, he needs to feel the physical pain of those he's killed and tormented for so many years. 

It was pure luck that I found him tonight. I was rummaging through the trash by the facility and found some crumpled paper. It had a name, Richard's, and his schedule. I assumed it was old but thought it was worth a try, and it looks like I was right. It was just after I decided to do something that I realized and recognized who he was. The man that took away the last of my happiness and sanity. Because I know those are two things that are long gone. That's when doing something turned dark. It became taking action, seeking revenge. Wanting and needing retribution for the pain he and the facility have caused me.

So there I was, standing behind a building on the opposite side of the street he was walking on. My body covered in loose black clothing I had found in the trash. A little torn and two sixes too big but they served their purpose. My face was covered with a cloth I found in the street, it was soft and a rich red. 

Now, I didn't mean to kill him. I wanted him to hurt, to suffer like I had. Like Grace had. But I was new to this and didn't know how far the non modified human body could go when blood loss was concerned. So when I jumped on his back and stabbed him, I didn't consider how deep I had cut him. I didn't think about his chance of survival. And I didn't notice when his breathing and heart rate slowed, or when his eyes shut. 

All i saw was red. I was angry, upset, beyond hurt. I didn't care how badly Richard was cut, what I cared about was that he was cut. That I didn't back down fro my mission and completed it to it's fullest extent. But then I stopped, and looked. And I saw the pool of red surrounding him, the bright lava that was creeping its way to my bare feet. I removed my face cloth and pressed it to the wound, but it wouldn't stop bleeding. 

So I ran.

I ran back to my shack and cried. I cried for Grace, I cried for Mom, wherever she was. I cried for what I had just done and for me. What was going to happen now? Would I be arrested and taken back to the facility? Would they ever figure out who was responsible for the fallen man in the street? All of this was racing through my mind when the radio chirped from the corner of my room. It made crackling noises then I heard

Who... Don't know

Naming them the... Knife

Watch out... dangerous.

Serial killer...

The Scarlet Knife.

It didn't take long for them to find him, granted he was in the middle of the street. How no one saw me is beyond my comprehension. But that's not me. I hate violence, The Scarlet Knife? No way, they assume I'm a new serial killer when I never planned to kill in the first place.

But you know what they say... once you get blood on your hands, you never go back.


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