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Today was...ok?
My highlight, though it's not at all good.
We got our midterms back. I really cried. The only person who did.
I hate lunch now. Stupid girl sitting nearby. Who is nosey. And who I would likely drive a pistol through the head of. Oh dear.
And before I sleep, I feel like writing.
She laughed, holding the gun loosely in her grip and waving it about slightly. "I told you, I don't want to do this but you leave me no choice." she said shrugging and giving a wicked grin.
Two watering brown eyes stared back, the sight of a helpless girl who had pushed a bit too many tempers and said one too many things. "Why? I didn't do anything!" she whimpered, sitting trembeling in her school desk.
The gun-holding girl gave a cold laugh. "You didn't do anything? Liar!" she hissed, poisen dripping from her voice.
The shaking girl only cried more and hit her head hard on the desk.
"Driving your head into the desk isn't going to make this lovely nightmare go away now dear. With that knowledge I advise you to stop," she said letting a sigh drag from her lips before continueing,"now all you have to do is tell me you were wrong and it will all be over. It's not like it's my fault you made my current employer a tad too tempered. You're not supposed to make the rich people mad. They have resources, love." she said cooly.
There was no answer from the girl and her trembeling had stopped. In fact, she was laying with her head on the desk and a troubled expression playing across her features. The hired assasin only mumbled a few curses under her breath. "Dumb-a** knocked herself out before I could shoot her. That's not supposed to happen." she whispered through clentched teeth.
The pigeons that had been perched on a nearby lamp post fell into flight as the single shot rang through the nearly freezing air, leaving an even colder atmosphere in its place. The girl who had moments ago held a gun stormed out of the small brick building, her fiery red hair finally being let free of it's cloth-wrapped restraints. She shut her steely eyes and slowly rolled up her sleaves. A small cut was forming on the lower area of her wrist, blood slowly trickeling from it. At first glance most would just go with the usualy assumptiont hat she was a cutter but a more observant look would prove that indefinently wrong.
She had been given a long going curse of being the centuries death-dealer. Along with this name there were terms or as the higher and lower up's liked to call them, 'goals' that had to be filled in that century in order for a death-dealers fate to pull through. This death-dealer, also known as Zach, was to do the following in one hundred years or she would be doomed to some terrible unknown death: Kill one-hundred thousand humans by order of another for another beings mind is more than restless and there are enough minds as such to find one-hundred thousand who want one other to be gone, slaughter another creature like herself; not of the human race, and find one silver feather in the ocean waters that floats so deeply below everything else and the world too.
Those terms had been placed into her mind only sixteen years ago by a searing coal that left permanent marks that would still be there even after she was sent to what she liked to call, The Great End to all Life. So yes, this girl was only sixteen and had already killed five hundred, sixty-three people and counting. This was of course no hobby, more of a profession if one were to think about it. But in any case, Zach wasn't too fond of having to wake up each day, and listen to the answering machine for messages concerning people she was to kill, where they would be, and what time to find them. The largest factor that made her loath the unfortunate job, were the cuts. Every time she passed another sole onto where-ever, her arm recieved a new cut in it as if she were in some sort of prison and that was how many requirments she had met until she got out.
I'm done now. Too lazy to finish at the current time.
Zombie Doll` · Wed Nov 30, 2005 @ 04:39am · 2 Comments |
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