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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1786085-Its-a-game
Rated: 13+ · Other · Dark · #1786085
It's just a game.
Avery Kane felt his mouth twitch upwards into a grin as he looked down at the helpless man before him. He chuckled and knelt down beside the dying man. His hand rustled the blond hair of this stranger and he met those light blue eyes with no mercy. “Welcome to the real world, kid. It’s tough out here, isn’t it?”
Avery took his hand away, saw the smeared blood on the palm of his hand and couldn’t help but let his smile widen at the sight. The young man just choked out a response that Avery wasn’t listening to, he was too busy looking at his surroundings. An alley with tall buildings on either side of them, a dumpster that looked like it had been untouched for weeks, and now a small pool of blood coming from beneath a man who lay on the black ground. His eyes were slowly dimming, and Avery could almost feel his life draining away.
When the blond finally stopped breathing, Avery stood. He shrugged his leather coat on and pushed his messy brown hair out of his eyes. He looked down at the eternally still body and felt nothing. No guilt or sadness, or even happiness. He only felt numb.
He looked back towards the way out of the alley and saw his new prey. A young man, 17, maybe 18, watching him with fear shining like a beacon in his eyes. Avery smirked knowingly and said one word to the new boy. “Run.”
The boy spun around and took off like a bullet. Avery yawned and lazily followed him, walking at a leisurely pace. He looked down at his hip, seeing the long dagger in its sheath on the black leather belt. He had almost forgotten that it was there. He took the silver blade from it’s dark cage and started picking the dirt from beneath his fingernails with its tip. Humming a small tune to himself as he followed the sound of heavy breathing and loud footsteps. Once again, the runner was heading off to a dead end. This place was like a maze that the hunter knew so well, yet the future victims never knew where they were going, always getting lost in the depths of the brick labyrinth.
Hands slapped a brick wall in anger and he heard the boy curse as Avery turned the corner to see the animal he had been chasing. His new toy looking back at him, wide green eyes and jet black hair that stuck to his face with sweat. He had run so fast, only to have to back out of dead ends and into others, trying so hard to lose this shadow of a man. He was panting hard, and while his eyes showed fear, they also showed fire. A want, no, a need to live. A good opponent for this bloodthirsty man.
Avery cocked his head at this boy and finished his cheerful tune. He twirled the phantomlike blade so that the moon glinted off the silver. “There’s a game I used to play. I would tell someone the lyrics of a song I know, and they would have to tell me the title and the band. Would you like to play?” He ran the pad of his thumb along the tip of the blade, seemingly fascinated in the metal.
“N-no sir.” The boy stuttered.
“C’mon boy, it’ll be fun. Don’t you like games?” Avery raised an eyebrow at the scared creature whose hands were pressed against the wall behind him and his eyes darted around the small space.
He didn’t say anything for a moment, and when Avery stepped forward a few steps he nearly shouted. “Okay! I’ll play! I’ll play.” Avery could almost taste the fear coming off this kid in waves.
“Good boy. Now, the song goes like this;
“They used to be just like me and you,
They used to be sweet little boys.
But something went horribly askew,
Now killing is their only source of joy.”
“Can you guess it?” Avery let his hopes get a little high when he saw the scared man close his eyes tight, as if trying to remember.
Instead he said in a whisper, “No. I’ve never heard the song.”
Avery felt his heart sink. He was almost rooting for the kid to get it right, just so he could see the look of relief on his face. “It’s Shankill Butchers by The Decemberists. It’s about some guys who like to kill their prey while they’re awake.” He grinned before continuing, “They’re one of my favorite bands.” He shifted his hold on the weapon as he walked over to the green eyed boy.
The boy lashed out, hitting Avery’s chest and tried to run by in an attempt to escape. Avery just growled in pain and grabbed the collar of the boy’s shirt, pulling him back. He didn’t loosen his grip, but instead held him tighter so that his back was against him. He brought the dagger to his prey’s neck and let the edge of the blade dance along his skin.
“Where are your manners?” He spat in anger before throwing the boy to the ground.
The boy hit the tar with a thud and looked up at the man who was now walking over, his knuckles holding the hilt so tight that his knuckles were white. The young man’s heart started to race and Avery saw that he was trembling. Avery was going to make this quick because of how much he had to do once he got home, but this boy had angered him to the point of no return.
He kicked the boy hard in the stomach, feeling the break of a bone. He saw the boy struggle for breath and he stepped on his leg as he walked behind him, feeling it snap beneath him.
“I asked you a question.” His hissed.
“S-s-sorry sir.” He sobbed, trying to hold back a scream in pain.
“Better.” He let the blade slide through the boy’s back and into the heart smoothly.
The boy’s mouth was open in a silent gasp, and when Avery was satisfied, he took the blade from the victim and let him hit the ground limply. A small trickle of blood flowed from his still open mouth. A pool of blood began underneath the boy’s chest and he never moved form his awkward position and didn’t made a sound.
Avery snarled at the dead animal beneath him, his prey. This thing had caused him to lose his temper. To dig deep within himself and access his best trait. To access his power. To access his wrath.
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