D1 // Scout Alex Fray [done]

( A G E ) Seventeen
( G E N D E R ) Female
( D I S T R I C T / A R E A ) One
( O C C U P A T I O N ) Professional Killer

( B I O G R A P H Y )

'sup loser.

Okay so, don't hate on me you ignorant pig. Don't you dare even fucking mention this little stupid piece of rubbish. I don't even know why I am writing this, hell when have I ever cared about school before? But apparently to pass this school year I have to do a thing. Yeah, a thing. For those of you who don't know what a thing is look it up you idiots. I am not wasting my precious time on you, especially when it involves a certain kind of thing that your unintelligible mind cannot comprehend. (But, really, I can be nice, so I'll tell you. A thing is a thing -- get it? 'Cos if that has still not gotten through that thick skull of yours stop reading. You are ruining my day.) Get smart or get out. That is how it will work. Please, if at any point I begin to bore you let me know so I can hit you hard and tell you to man the fuck up.

Apparently this assignment involves more than I had intended it to. And I don’t like that. That makes me angry. The idea of wasting my precious time on this drawn out, boring, silly, stupid, wretched task. But I need to pass this school year. Want to know why? Because if I do not pass this year of school I will have to repeat and that means doing another year of school, but this time stuck in the same grade as my younger siblings. That cannot happen. I am way too cool to be stuck down with those babbling buffoons. Okay so back onto the job at hand, for the person reading this swirl of dribble you better enjoy it. And if I hear a word breathed into the air that you found even a single letter of this letter bad I will find you. Don’t you dare laugh. I know you are calling that an empty threat. And I know you are probably sitting there thinking of saying something horrible about itty bitty Scout, knowing she can’t do a thing. Ignorant idiot.

Do you know what happened to the last person that read this letter? They thought the same; wanna know how I know that? I had to redo the letter because by the time I was done with them it was so drenched in blood that you couldn’t make out a single word. Yeah. I’m an aggressive little bitch with an attitude. I ain’t afraid to say that either. I ain’t even afraid to say that I will hunt you down and kill you. I killed that last person. I like to kill people. It be great fun. I’ve killed a lot of people. Tall, short, ugly, pretty. I ain’t care who you are, whether you have parents, whether you have children, a husband, girlfriend, best itty bitty friend. I ain’t care.

If I wanna kill you I’ll kill you. Wanna hear somethin’ funny? My brother does the same; my bog old twin brother does the exact same. ‘Cept he does not have the fun I do. For me it is all about takin’ your time, letting them scream and feel the pounding of their own heart in their chest. Makin’ it go nice and slow whereas my twin bro likes to do it nice and fast. He sees it like some competition where he has to just kill more then me. I see it more as fun, a relaxing time to spend, not one to rush. And you’ll see me enjoy it. My laughing, delight-filled, mocking face will be the last thing you see. Yah hear me? You’ll rarely see a touch of frost in my eyes. I hate making it look like I’m some cold, monster that can’t feel a thing. It just ruins the moment. You feel me? It does.

I mean, who wants to be faced with imminent death when you have some cold, glaring beast killing you? Wouldn’t you rather have a smiling and cheerful person enjoying what they are doing? I would. I really would. It just makes it more funner. (Is that a word? Funner, I mean? I’m sure it is, it sounds like one. You gonna tell me I’m wrong? You were, weren’t you? Think again, pal.) Oh and the laughing, you just get me in the giggles. Especially when you’ll pee your pants. At first I use to find that revolting, but then after a time I’d just sit back and laugh, because come on? I even made a grown man pee his pants once. And how is that not just down straight perfect? Anyway, my brown eyes are delightfully jovial when I lice into your flesh, sinking my knife into your skin. What I don’t understand, though, is why when I tell you all to life and smile with me you just like scream. You can’t see the fun we are having, but rather the pain you are suffering. Really, you all have no imagination.

And again, if you don’t believe that I’ll kill you look down to the bottom of this page and you will see little tiny specks of blood. That ain’t my blood, that ain’t anyone’s blood, but the reckless idiot who did not listen last time. Got it? See what’ll happen? Great. But now I’m sure you are scared. And I’m sorry, I really am, ‘cos I can be fun. I can be a lot of fun. I like people, I do. I like what’s inside them when I’m ripping it out with my hands when I’m talking to them as well as what is outside when I’m slicing a knife into your flesh and I see that raw, beautiful pain flash across your eyes, as you try and hold back a scream ,but you never can especially when I’m kiss a person. Oh, that is another thing about me. I like to sleep with people. I’m full on free down in the way of sexuality. I find you attractive I’ll snag you with my claws.

If you don’t impress me I’ll kill you. You impress me you live and I never do you again. Wait, there was one guy that I did five times. That was a record on my part, but seriously he was above and beyond amazing. And I did not kill him. That left me feeling slightly depressed. I felt like I had grown soft, to feel better I went out and killed a ten year old girl. The Peacekeeper’s almost caught me on that one. By know I can beat you are reading this letter wide-eyed. I can also tell you are edging further to the edge of your chair. I’d stop if I were you. I’m thin, but I am strong. I am a career girl and I have the stamina to gut you and fillet you in less than an hour. So if you are even thinking about going to the Peacekeeper’s and telling them little Scout Fray is a big nasty girl I’d stop. So I’m going to tell you to sit back in your chair, lean back and not move a muscle. If you even take one step to that door I’ll kill you and you won’t even make it to that door. Now you’re laughing. (“How could she possible know where I live? What a stupid bitch.”)

I wonder if I could even surprise you anymore to tell you that I’m right outside the door to your bedroom. Or maybe that that squeal you heard early was not your dad and your mother muckin’ around, but rather me choking the life out of them. That had been easy, oh so easy. Oh no. Don’t get up. Don’t you dare get up and off that seat. You do that you die. Oh, but of course why would you listen to a piece of paper? Why would you listen to it at all? I doubt you are even reading this anymore. So I’ll stop here. But just quickly, I just have to tell you, that you chose this. You chose to pick up this letter when you saw it on the floor. You made the same mistake as three other people before you. And by now you’ll know you can’t get away. No one ever has.

---

The letter had left the young boys hand only a few seconds ago. Shaking, and unable to shake off the belief that every word on there was true, he stood up. The letter fell to the floor behind him. He’d picked it up after seeing it by his locker. He hadn’t known what had made him take it home and read it. But he had. Swallowing nervously he tried a shaky laugh, rubbing off the idea that the letter could possibly be true. It was just a letter after all, wasn’t it? He walked over to the door and he opened it. He screamed, because standing there was none other than Scout Fray. Tangled wild, brown hair hanging loosely around her face. Sharp angled cheekbones almost unnoticeable behind a cheery smile. Her eyes flickered with an odd amount of happiness, as though the pure fear on the boy’s face in front of her was nothing but a dream come true. The boy gazed at her left cheek where blood stained the skin. He looked down and found that his legs could no longer hold him. Her long, elegant fingers covered in crimson red blood.

( C O M M E N T / O T H E R )

Template -- Lalia

( C O D E W O R D )

<img src="http://i41.tinypic.com/16h2ibt.png">

I'm waking up to ash and dust
I wipe my brow and I sweat my rust
I'm breathing in the chemicals
I'm breaking in, shaping up,
then checking out on the prison bus