Take No Prisoners

An unbearable heat had captured me, a feeling akin to been caught in a phoenix talons, a raw fire, like liquid through my veins as I pushed harder, my body defiant against my demands to keeps fighting, the adrenaline worn off some time ago, when, I can not recall. My fists are bloodied and numb not knowing if the life liquid is my own or of the white masked killers, having no time for a rest I throw my body into an upward ark, miraculously dodging the two blades aimed for my abdomen and spearing the seventh of the advanced twelve through the cerebral cortex.

The last time I trained this hard was right after my ‘parents’ death I state them a such , not because of what they did, no the whole trying to kill me thing is forgiven due to the fact that I know they didn't do it willingly, and also killing seems to be the new ’in thing’ honestly what in the world coming to…

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My body trembled as I lay curled up in the corner opposite the front door, knees up to my chest, hands over my head in a position meant for self protection tears leaked from my swollen eyes, orbs fixated on the maroon stained floorboards in front of me. The single word of why reverberated around my head the questions, why? How? What happened it was all so fast? My body shook as sobs claimed my frame. Whatever happened to them could happen to anyone, I need to be stronger I need to be prepared. Picking my weakened body of the floor I stumbled over to the bookcase and pulled out the advanced aerial attacks and short sword techniques master grade, my adoptive father told me to only learn the forms and advances from this particular book if I truly need the content, and I don't know about you, but I believe this situation counts.

Well into the cold night the rhythmic thud of flech hitting wood sounded throughout the barn along with the rough pain filled grunts of the young woman blood flowing in a steady river down her wrists to pool on to the dusty floor. The wooden thuds slowed as the 18 year old slumped and gave in to the fatigue clouding her system.

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Shaking myself out of my reverie I narrowly miss the strike attempting to take off my right hand turning back to the single masked man left, I figure I must have been on auto-pilot and slaughtered the others during the time thinking about my past. I stood catching my breath as we prowled in circles similar to the wolves I read in a book as a child, the blood drifting in to my eyes stained my vision red his white mask dyed crimson giving his figure a demon of nightmares appearance his laughing face mocking my existence.

In my whole life I would never have thought in would turn out like this, sat at my family diner table with a group of rough looking strangers, I have learnt much from them about the outside world, metaphorically speaking, what and who the masked freaks are and most of all what I am, and so I call myself Killjoy.

The atmosphere is tense as we sit at the old wooden table the sounds of forks against plates covered the silence,

“So how long you been out here for?” The girl named Sunshine Suicide piped up cutting through the quiet.

“I have lived here all my life my parents departed three years ago,”

“Where’d they go?” Angel spoke.

“Nowhere, they’re under the lawn,” I glared down at my empty plate, “So Dusty is it? How long you been out here?”

The blond glared at me from beneath her lashes, yeah she really doesn’t like me. I stare down at the juices left over from the chicken I had cooked the previous night , and make pictures in the gloss, thinking back to the night before I agreed I would go with them and help their goal but we are a broken team a mass of negative emotions however heavily masked hangs on us and if we don’t get rid of it we will all surely die. I sigh as I collect up the cutlery, this is going to be a long day.