That Was A Mistake


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 I saw the teenage girl look me up and down before turning to her friend and whispering. As they giggled about what she said, I glanced at them. They weren't wearing much, the first one in knicker shorts and a bralett.

 They weren't assigned to me, but I so wanted to. They walked up, smirking. I pursed my lips as I smelt their perfume. Calvin Klein and Katy Perry. Nice.

 "Why are you dressed in black?" The first one, now that she was close, I could see that she had dirty blonde hair, had an irritating, high-pitched voice. "Are you a goth?" They were giggling again.

 I raised at eyebrow, pulled out my dagger and plunged it into her flat stomach. "No," I whispered as her friend screamed. "But I am dark."

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