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I sat in a dark room, no light except for a plain and straight forward spot light in the middle of the ground a few meters away from me. I wore a white stainless dress, simple yet accessories with lace transforming it into something elegant and refined, never seen it before.
A person appeared in the light, his breathing staggered and soft whimpers slipped though his lips. He began to cry out loud, he began to beg, to apologize. His words jumbled into a mess of moans and screams that said only one word "sorry".
I tried to reach for him, to move, to breath but my struggle to do so became futile.
My body was numb.
Thousands of needles were breaking through every pore of my skin, making me wince involuntarily. My eyes burned and my joints stung.
My gaze returned back to the man. His head was bowed to the ground, with his lips placing soft kisses onto other mans mud stained shoes. After every gentle kiss he whispered the same word, "sorry", he continued till the shoes were spotless.
The man above him chuckled. His voice low and strong, aggravating. He wore a regular t-shirt with the word "justice" printed on every inch. His denim pants were torn at various places, strings hanging from the openings and pockets almost non-existent, shoes used and worn out, stained with the resin of old dirt that had been in the same place for to long. His hair was cut short, blond streaks covered half of its natural brown; Eyes were dark and cold, all emotions hidden except that of pure and sheer bliss.
The shoe lifted from the ground and placed above the bowing mans head. A smirk appear in his face as the man on the ground began to groan.
'Justice' - or so I will call him until I know his name' softly whispered some words and the man on the ground turned to look at me in return, his trashing stopped.
The man seemed vaguely familiar yet I couldn't pinpoint where I had met him before.
His hair was shoulder length cut in layers almost like a woman. Jet black and soft, or at least it seemed so from the distance I was in. He wore a button shirt, white with blue vertical bars, all symmetrical with every spacing between them precisely measured. Black pants contrasted with the white above, now dirtied with dust and debris from past passer-by.
Justice turned my way, the smirk still on his face, a crooked smile that will be forever planted into my nightmares.
"Aren't you proud of him!!" he questioned
His voice harsh and gravely, his eyes piercing though me and shattering me into tiny little pieces that could never be put back together.
He applied more pressure to his foot above the man.
"Scream more!" he ordered as he turned back to the bowed man
Justice suddenly removed his foot from the mans head and grabbed him by the chest. His body was now facing upward as he sat right above his abdomen. Justice placed his hands harshly over each side of the pleading man's face, right above the temples his nails dug deep into the skin. His face got closer to the him, breath drying the now tear stroked cheeks.
"Show your daughter how much you care" he spoke through gritted teeth
His sharp finger nails dragged over... my- my father's face. Blood trickling down into his ears and over his neck, down to his hair, every feature now damped with thick and rich liquid.
The flesh was trapped under his nails, hanging from there by the fast drying blood, his tongue stuck out from the end of his never fading smile as he licked a few drops from his hands.
My stomach churned.
He reached into his pocket with his freshly damped hands. A small cylindrical object, red and black forming a dragon with its tail hiding behind his hands shone in the dark room.
He snapped it open and licked the blade, trailing and invisible path in the air before sliding it down the freshly made wounds making them deeper, as the blood gushed by faster.
My father went to 'sleep'; he continued.
Every stab sent a jolt of pain into my head. Every single one placed a small black orb in my line of vision; They soon merged together blocking section of the murder before me. I couldn't see anything after my father's intestines were dragged out his body, the intoxicating smell of blood and the laugh of the murderer engraved into my being.
The morning light seeped thought my curtains. A small 12 by 12 room with the basic necessities, a small door that opened to a barely there closet, not that I had many clothes to begin with.
A window covered half of the wall and a balcony joined with it, mostly there only to hang my washed clothes to dry, I had no time to enjoy the view, or well the brick wall of the neighboring building.
I had no bed, it took too much space, so I slept on the ground. It wasn't that bad, really, my floor had a mat that served as a cushion so I just use a pillow and a thin like blanket to cover myself during sleep.
During the time when I see that man killing my father, again, and again, and again for the past few years.
His name is Seiji, meaning lawful, what a great irony isn't it?
He is an unemployed, since well working part time jobs every other day doesn't really qualify him as having a job. He lives in an old almost crumbling down apartment, you know those that are in danger of being demolished anytime soon yet are being kept alive by the greedy owners that somehow always end up bribing the housing inspector.
He has eight shirts and three pairs of pants. I have yet to find the shirt with the words "justice" imprinted on it. His room is small with instant packet trays all over the place. No kitchen, unless you consider the microwave as one. A small bed and a T.V. right on the edge with the News channel always on.
He has killed 6 people, after my father, apparently he is good with hiding the bodies because every time the person is announce "missing".
I sneak in every Tuesday night while he goes out drinking from 8:00 p.m to 3:00 a.m, he never fails to come home with a new... disease that will hopefully not kill him because, that, is my job.
I have yet to figure out why he does his killings. He gains no money out of them, he doesn't ask for ransom money, he doesn't even know them, he just simply kills.
He has no friends and wastes all his time on the bench across the park in front of the police station, just spacing out occasionally feeding the birds.
He wakes up at 5:00 a.m. every day, save for Tuesdays (for already known reasons), to drink water, takes a bath around 6:30, heats up a packet of noodles while he watches the news until he has to leave for work, if he has one for that day. His routine is pretty basic and not hard to keep up with, hasn't changed for the past five years.
Today is Tuesday September 7th, 8:30 p.m. and I feel like an idiot for having jinxed myself.
His routine has been slightly off for the past eight weeks.
He hasn't gone drinking or brought in a different women. He has been packing his few belongings, maybe planning to move to a new place?
His curtains have been shut close and he has been peeking to much from them, maybe he saw me following him, or notice someone came into his home.
I'm frustrated. I have been stalking him for so long that now that I have to lay low I have nothing to do!! I can't follow or keep an eye on him because he might suspect even more, and not entering his home has made me feel on edge because I have no clue as to what he is doing or planning.
I used to know who his next victim was by the notes he would take on that little black leather notebook under his floor. The words would be written backwards and then split into random segments, it would take me a few visits just to decipher one, I should have made a copy of the damned book.
Tonight I will sneak in no matter what. I have nothing to loose. No family, no friends, not a real social life, the only thing I have is a strong desire to kill him that has been piling up in my soul for the past five miserable years.
My eyes have become dull to my surroundings. Each day has gone by with no other thought than that of my own bare hands twisting his neck, making him squirm and beg for mercy, the way my father did.
I want to see him cry, to turn blue by the lack of oxygen in his lungs and brain, I want to slash his throat not deep enough to kill and smear his blood over his face, I want to bathe in it and laugh at his misery. I won't give him the pleasure of dying without pain, without atonement of his sins. I'm no god but I am human, a human with a need of more than a revenge, I need, I want closure.
I ran towards his apartment an hour after the lights of his room went out. I stood in front of the entrance, the lock already too familiar to serve its purpose. I tried to pick at it only to find that it was already unlocked, my hand gripped the knife in my hands.
I walked as silently as my boots allowed me to, I wanted to kick him once or twice. my eyes weren't yet accustomed to the darkness of the room. The tight and musky smell of dirt and spoiled remains of food filled my nostrils.
Seiji sat in the corner of the room. Eyes gleaming with anticipation and smile already marring his smooth skin.
"Took you long enough" he smiled "What was it again? Six months since you've been following me" his smug face looked at me intently waiting for my next move
"Ha- 5 years to be exact" I smiled back with a raised eyebrow
His slightly shocked expression burned a fire in the pit of my stomach that wanted to explode. He recovered his composure and played with the hem of him stained shirt.
"Do you like it? Do you, remember it?" Seiji asked as he followed the stain around the piece of clothing with the tips of his finger nails; the words "Justice" glowed with the street lights
I looked at him, eyes burning with utter disgust. That shirt was the one-
"You grew up nicely didn't you? I sill remember how you watch me tear your father up in pieces. What a wonderful day that was, the feeling of his skin peeling from his face, the sound of his breaking bones under my fists, the taste of his blood on the tip of my tongue, the sight of you watching every move I made."
"Why?" I asked, voice in monotone as I tried to block all my emotion away. My blood boiled and rushed though my veins as the grip on the knife tightened till my knuckles became white.
"Why, What?" he feigned ignorance
"Why did you KILL HIM!?" I asked, anger quickly breaking the thin wall between rationality and complete insanity.
"Oh that." he answered nonchalantly "It feels... good? Nice perhaps." his legs crossed with a sort of smugness to it.
I stared shocked. The room began to spin but I quickly regained myself, I wasn't about to give up my chance.
"Why him?" I needed more than that petty answer
"Ah~~ I like that question. All my, victims -if I must call them something- , only have one family member." he waited for a response from me but I just looked at him to continue "You didn't notice? What have you been doing these, what was it again? Five years, right. Pay more attention if you are to gather information!" he chided me
He was playing with me. The way he was talking to me, as if, as if, I WAS TO LEARN SOMETHING FROM HIM.
I took a step forward
"If you kill me now you won't know your answers~" he sing-song playfully
I stood still, as I bit my lip to stop the desire to skin him alive, to rip every nail off his fingers, to pull his eyes out of his sockets-
"Good girl. Well as I was saying all my victims, augh what an ugly word," he muttered to himself more that to me "Have only one family member, usually a small child or even a sister to ensure that I will be always remembered. You see, I don't want to be forgotten, living in this world we didn't choose to live in and then dying only to be forgotten by the years to come, nope that's not something I want. If I "change" someones life I'm able to live and live and live even after my death. Most of my families victims are content or well they just simply give up searching for their lost ones or me, you on the other hand found me and I applaud you for that" He sincerely clapped his hands together and gave a small bow before me.
I ran towards him and grabbed him by the chest, his face a few centimeters away from mine, his eyes shining through the night.
"Do it" he muttered "Do it!!"
My weapon unconsciously dove into his abdomen. He took a hold of my hand with both of his
"That won't kill me. You have to do it properly." Seiji said calmly as he twisted his wrist.
I smirked, that same smirk that tormented me every night "I don't want to kill you, yet"
I pulled the knife out and saw his blood dripping from the edge of the blade. I dipped it in his inner elbow, tearing the joints making him scream. His blood oozed through the skin as I continued with his legs. A pool of rich, thick, metal stinking liquid started to form under me, I had to make it quick before he died of blood loss.
I slashed his right cheek and continued in a thick path around his chin into the left cheek into his eye. The blade never leaving the skin of the murderer.
"Do you like how that feels? Huh?!" I enunciated every syllable as I played with his eye socket
His screams only made the adrenaline through my body rush faster.
I stabbed his chest again, and again and again, every thrust feeling me with pleasure and relief. The word "justice" became unreadable.
I never noticed when Seiji had died or when the blue and red sirens had arrived.
My 21st birthday became my last.
BTW please ignore the tags I don't know what genre it is considered but since I've been reading a lot of stories of that sort I think it was influenced....