An Eye for an Eye
Screaming enveloped the whole club, along with the musty, metallic smell of blood. Blood was extremely heavy in the air, you could almost taste it. “Are you all having a good time?” Everyone’s attention diverted towards the DJ booth. A tall man with midnight black hair, wearing a blood-stained hoodie, was standing in the DJ booth, metres away from me. “Hello, princess.” His teeth were a sickly yellow. But the most gut-wrenching thing about him was the smiles carved inches into his face. “Don’t hurt me!” Heather screaming, throwing her hands above her head.
The sick murderer’s face was filled with a sickly sweet smile. “Oh, baby, I won’t. My knife will.” And with that, our little murderer threw his long knife at Heather, the metal blade plummeting into her forehead. Nice shot. Every girl on the stage screamed and jumper off, and they must have forgotten the ten metre drop. “Oh, do we have a little hero? Aren’t you going to scream and beg me to spare your insolent life?” I rolled my eyes. “Of course not. My death is inevitable tonight, whether you kill me, or if I drop off the stage.”
A look of realisation flashed across his face. “You’re not like all those other girls. You’re difference, what is it?” I cackled. “I’m a witch! Oh, and I’m a pieces.” I tried to hide my fear under a facade of bravery and intellect. The ominous murderer paced towards me, taking his deathly time. “You’re afraid of me, princess. I can smell the fear in the air, along with the filthy scumbags we’ve eliminated tonight.” He pulled his knife out from Heather’s skull, producing a sickening crack. The knife soon found its way on my cheek, dribbling blood across my face.
“Funny one, aren’t you. The blonde whore I stabbed was obviously a friend of yours. Yet you don’t jump up and down and call me a big bad monster.” Okay, this guy is a weirdo. “Because, she’s simply a whore. I’ve never valued her friendship. I’m a much better person in solitude. With a good book and some music.” I whisper, barely loud enough for myself to hear. “What’s your name, love? I want to remember you, the only girl who hasn’t screamed in fear or pain.” That would be a great thing to be remembered by.
As we neared the end of the stage, I devised a plan. “My name, oh that’s easy. The girl who lived.” I pulled the sickly murderer off the end of the stage. But, like I said, my death that night was inevitable. I was dragged off the stage with the world’s favourite murderer. As we fell a smirk filled his face. “Smart, kitty.” As our bodies collided with the solid ground, he broke my fall. I felt his bones crack under my weight. Maybe I can escape death tonight; I have a very slim chance, seeing tens of bodies dead on the floor.
“Shit.” I rolled off the murderer’s cold body, gasping for air. “What a night.” I started trying to raise my body from the ground. “How many do you think we got?” A small, female voice boomed through the room. “Maybe, 30? Maybe 60.” Another voice asked. I’m not getting out of here alive, am I? I’m going to rot underground with the rest of the whores here. This is just swell. “I can’t find Jeff, Sally. Do you think one of these skanks knocked him out?” Okay, our murderer’s name is obviously Jeff. And I am not a skank!
The other two murderers (I heard the name Sally being mentioned, and a boy dressed up as Link) started searching for their wounded ally. As I pretended to be dead, two impossibly strong arms wrapped around my waist. “How I love a girl who fights back.” Jeff licked a long strip along my cheek. “I’m over here guys! And I got a great fighter. And she has supple breasts.” Jeff’s grin widened, almost falling off his face. “Jeffy! You’re a gross boy!” A small girl jumped onto Jeff’s stomach. I’m assuming this is Sally. “I got us a playtoy, baby girl. She fights back.”
Sally’s face brightened up. “Can she be my friend, Jeffy?!” Jeff gave her a curt nod and let her skip along, tripping over dead bodies with joy. “Hi, Ben. Mind helping me up?” The man dressed up in a Link costume, gave Jeff a hand up. “Thanks mate, how many did we get?” Jeff asked Ben. “Altogether? 60.” I raised a hand to contort the gasp. “I would have gotten more if I wasn’t so intrigued by this little babe. She wasn’t scared, Ben. Our first non-screamer.” Jeff had happiness etched along his face.
“I guess we should take her back to Slender. I heard from Masky that Offendy was here for the weekend.” I lost it at take her. “NO! I AM NOT GOING WITH YOU! LOOK, I’M A SCREAMER! AHHHHH!” I tried my best, but only got a look of amusement from both boys. “Cute, isn’t she. I could just, ugh, take her on the floor.” Ben groaned. Okay, I changed my mind. Never been more repulsed than now. “Don’t talk about me that way, you creep! You don’t want me! I’m...I’m part witch! I don’t have any friends! My dad is dead! I have a dead-beat step dad!”
All of these comments only made the two men more intrigued by my persistent behaviour. Both men turned around to talk to each other for several seconds. “Okay, we only want to do one thing just to test you out. If you don’t meet our requirements, we’ll let you go and live a normal life forever.” I nodded curtly and Jeff sat down. “Now, don’t struggle baby girl.” Jeff placed one of his beautifully large and slender (A/N: Slender! What are you doing here?!) hands on my breast. Before I could swat his hand away, he began massaging. Pleasure enveloped my body, settling me in its coma.
Then a loud purr erupted from my chest.
I had so much fun writing this chapter!
Especially the groping of the chest.
It might be a little short; I wrote it in half an hour.
Question, what could she possibly be?
Kajjit? Maybe. But this isn’t elder scrolls, it’s creeeeeeeeepypasta