~three years later~

It was a typical night in Atlanta.The air was moist, and the weather was not too cold, but it still placed a few goosebumps on the boy's arms and neck.He rubbed his arms in attempt to give them some warmth, though his palms were pale and freezing too.

One may ask, why is it that a boy of rather young age would be roaming the dark allies at a time like this?

Well, you see, my elder readers, the world has changed greatly for the youth these days.Fourteen y/o no longer spend their time walking their dogs, or drawing anymore.They'd very much rather waste all their limited time and life on social medias and the internet.A powerful source, technology is.Whoever invented it was at the same time a genius, and a killer.

Speaking of killers, that is just what this young boy is about to face.Serves him right for wandering the streets late at night, on the one forbidden street nobody dared took.He was breaking two rules at the time actually.One, he was on an off-limits area, and Two, he was high on meth and weed.He's not even close to the legal age for just alcohol.And yet here he is, losing all his senses and knowledge, and is just about to waste his precious life on one blood-thirsty killer.The only one that will not be suffering in this story, my readers, is the killer herself.

She'd done it once again.She hasn't stopped since that one night.She had killed once, which lead her to think, she could kill again.And again she succeeded.With a mind fill of sinister and dark thoughts, and a smile meaning nothing more than doom and blood.She killed again, although, this was the first time she had tortured a male.She always went for the women and pretty young girls, because they screamed louder, and had more high-pitched moans, which brought her extreme pleasure.Yes, she herself, as realized she is a sick sociopath.But diagnosing herself with this is no reason for her to stop killing.Nothing could stop her from proceeding to kill.

Even when the young boy begged and begged for her to come to her senses as her knife was held at his throat, she did not stop.She slashed it with a single motion of her fingers and the boy fell limp to the ground like a rag doll.A sea of red flashed before her eyes.She smiled, that sadistic smile once again, as the beautiful liquid oozed from the wound and began soaking her bare toes. Aggressively, she tore open the boy's wound with her bare hands to get more of the red liquid out.Crimson, sticky material soon coated her hands and fingers and once lily-white dress.A pool of blood surrounding her, and the rusty metal smell filled the air around them.

And of course, no piece of artwork is done without the artist's signature.

She bent down and placed a black rose onto the boy's chest and disappeared behind the tall buildings.

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