___________
She spun the knife in her hand, blood dripping onto the floor every rotation like the slow ticking of a clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. They were finally dead. Her job was now complete. Strangely, she enjoyed it, relishing every, single, moment.
You know, they only had themselves to blame. If they had just took one minute to apologise, it wouldn’t have had to come to this. But, alas, it did.
Pressure rose off of her shoulders. No more needing to act like the nice guy. No more crying into the pillow every night. No. More. Pain.
Looking at her work, she smiled, thinking to herself how satisfactory this felt, finally being able to win. She had her doubts at first. She was always the goody-two-shoes, the one who would report any instance of violence or bullying even when threatened. She didn’t want to do anything to ruin this reputation, it was her life. This life, however, was the main thing that brought her to commit this unforgivable sin.
Under the cover of darkness and isolation, you can get away with almost anything. Murder, however, was one of those hit and miss situations. If you left one miniscule piece of evidence at the crime scene that will incriminate you, you’re going to jail. Being a fan of crime books herself, she knew exactly what to do to make sure that that situation would never happen.
All evidence of someone’s presence that night was removed from the crime scene. Except one thing. A single word written on the forehead of each victim.
‘Revenge. Is. Sweet.’
