Chapter One - Our Blade Will Sing.

Waynev was as still as a rock in the ocean.

The only sign of movement flowed in waves from the tension, her knuckles turned white as she gripped the blade harder than any current could. She slowed her breathing, making sure that she was as calm as she was quiet in this small room.

"Slowly," a voice rasped with a slight echo, leading Waynev to peer out from the malignant rusted door, to the small hallway leading to the end.

"Gently, this is how a life is taken. This is how you will save our kin," the voice cackled as Waynev squinted at the dim room, the perfect ambush.

"If I'd done something earlier, would it have changed… anything?" Wayne asked, guilt still oozing. She thumbed the blade and looked from rusted abandoned shelves, to the inconspicuous barrels to the gritty concrete floor.

A mix of rot and old metal made up the stench, the old shack wasn’t cleaned in a long time.

"Yes, yet despite what I mentioned about his nature-" Her whispers changed volume, sounding like an engine’s hum.

"Time and time again, you ignored me." Shadow’s voice grew vehement, fiercer with each word making the already dank air feel as if it would choke Waynev.

"We were idle, unused. The consequences of being sorry rather than safe. The person to blame is you," Waynev's supposed 'consciousness' expressed.

Anger at being unable to protect? Her eyes peered at the rough planks that used to be desks, focusing on the edges ".. should've been able to protect her," her voice barely a whisper called out to the madness within.

"It doesn't matter who's at fault anymore." Waynev pushed with a higher tone of voice, her heart pounded in her ears as she was breathless, betrayed by her thoughts.

"All that matters is fixing -"

"No, not fixing. We can't fix her… we've tried. It's time for vengeance. You know it now, and I will not let you rest until he is gone." Shadow smoothly interrupted, noticing vantage points and finishing the plan.

Waynev meanwhile looked down at herself, her brown hair was barely visible while her discreet top and bland blue jeans were still shaggy and inconspicuous, perfect for after the end.

"Elise was with us in the beginning, with US. Back when you accepted me readily, and the three of us were friends, before you left me, hid me, loathed what WE were."

"Shadow, it wasn't the same, I pushed you back because you became something..." Waynev wiped her damp hands on her pants, swapping the blade to her left as she tried to think of the right words.

"No, not something. Someone else.”

“I couldn't, no I wouldn't sound like a maniac, insane to my younger sister just because my mind has a voice." Waynev, edged from foot to foot, Thomas was taking his time.

"When I found out she was h-" Waynev stopped the decisive words at the sound of a crash against concrete, the echoes of the end coming closer as her plan reached fruition.

He came.

Waynev slouched behind her hiding spot, her body blending in with the shadows as if they were her own.

An ancient door hid her figure which she was slick up against her eyes barely perceiving the room as she waited silent as a snake yet animated, inflamed at the realisation that he would get what he deserved.

"We'll finish this talk when it's over. When you're in a cage much like mine," Shadow continued, her plan needed yet not given. She wanted Waynev to stew.

"Except, instead of flesh, it'll be of iron and concrete. You'll deserve it." Shadow said, maybe even gleefully Waynev thought before focusing on the approaching footsteps.

"Oi. Wayne."

Waynev could hear the confidence, no the arrogance in his voice. She despised him calling her by Elise's pet name.

But calmed herself near instantly.

He won't be here much longer.

"Ready to give as much as your sister did?" Thomas laughed, nearly bellowing, with his voice echoing off the enclosed hallway, echoing around the room.

"Shadow, the plan. Now," Waynev demanded, Shadow for once willingly obliged.

Feeling fortunate for once that she had no body to reveal her 'grin'.

What felt like minutes was probably seconds, with Waynev tensing her knees and abdominal muscles in preparation.

"Prepare to pounce. We act. We take. We kill."

Waynev felt as if Shadow was drumming feet in her head, impatiently wanting the results.

The ending.

"The end near as it is will be worth it to end-" Shadow stopped noticing the vibrations on the floor, coming closer to the target.

"Him," Waynev agreed, silent as the dead with her lips tightening and eyes gleaming with a barely contained frenzy, in the sordid room.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

[https://i.imgur.com/3sUcbo9.png]

An open clear field lay wild, unbidden across the landscape until a certain structure encased in rust and erosion stopped its onslaught for the countryside, a few minutes away a smug figure strolled towards it.

His friends called him Tom, and he enjoyed helping others.

By his standards, of course.

He reminisced the day he made a following. Footsteps rang in the ears of their prey, acting as bells that would toil their undoing. Taking, stealing, fighting.

Flinching was a common response to his group, as they rip and tear to their heart's content. Ignored were the whines and whimpers of the scrawnier group, begging turned to silence as the lack of response proved their own self-deprecating thoughts true and what they could do to stop them.

Nothing.

Yet Thomas was a man born for higher things. While ignoring what his friends would grope and take without a second thought, handmade sandwiches, wallets with little more than pocket change? No, there was more to life than lifeless objects.

In the school environment, the finer things were still… maturing, he thought perversely.

Thomas, entirely oblivious to his coming misfortune, was still smirking at his earlier good fortune.

“Heh, good things do come in pairs.” Thomas began flipping a coin while his smirk grew with his good mood, the landscape around him turning from grass to cracked pavement as he approached.

“Getting paid to keep quiet about getting laid, maybe targeting sisters is where the money is at.” Catching his coin midair he pocketed it, imagining instead pocketing the hundred from the Tomboy.

As he walked to the decrepit storehouse, his lips curled, peering at the shoddy construction. Thomas thinking about his good luck and Elise's sister… Waynev. Elise's sister was much taller than her and in his opinion, nowhere near as attractive. Where Elise was innocent-looking, Waynev was fierce and thought of as weird by most due to her muttering and the rumours surrounding her.

“Muttering and stuttering seems like she’s recovering from a plundering.” Thomas guffawed at his terrible joke, imagining the awkward woman all alone in a secluded location.

“Or just begging for a smothering.” His pace picked up at the thought.

Tom, although young, knew that there was money to be made from others’ misfortune.

So, when he had the pleasure of a drugged-out Elise, a snap of the phone made the whole experience a whole lot easier for the quick buck and night of laughter with plentiful clinking of drinks with the boys.

For who could forget friends when they can peer pressure an hesitant Elise into chugging a whole drink down.

Then the party finished, friends scattering. As the people thinned, he knew he won big. Having done this before, his mates left him, and he took his prize.

And now at the crusted metal door, he felt it again. The feeling of having power over another, of using it to get what he wanted. Using his strength to overwhelm another, even entertaining the thought of using Waynev as he did her sister. He raised his right foot, feeling invincible, and slammed it forward crashing into the door and listening to the power of his kick echo.

Thoughts of taking Waynev entertained him through this crappy corridor, an aisle brimming with animal faeces and rubble of a bygone age. Thomas' eyes flickered from the numerous shadows and distinct smells of stale air and rotting wood that would be his last. To him, it was a shitty place to make the exchange.

For Waynev, she intended it to be his resting place.

Bump bump. Her body was ready, desperate for the end.

"When his head turns to the side of the room with the shelves. Slice the integral. Slice the crucial. Slice his neck," Shadow whispered.

Waynev’s heart steadily beat, focused on her purpose.

Waynev then tensed her arm, the knife held to her chest, blade pointing out.

Even the blade was eager. Bloodthirsty. Determined to be used.

In resolution she counted the beats, before the deed.

Thomas walked through the open doorway. Waynev noticed his tell-tale smirk stop after walking through the hallway, thankfully her nose had attuned to the rotten garbage, as he turned towards the shelves squinting, she dived forward her knife pulled-back like a whip.

Sleeecct

Thomas screamed, his collarbone bleeding profusely. Her smile widened as she saw him fall back.

Elevation turned into urgency as she saw him try and escape.

His live corpse slammed into the shelves, having them fall on top of him as Waynev advanced, giving Thomas no chance, no place, no quarter to escape.

Everything happened at once. Thomas’ back was on the wall, encrusted with mud and dust. The shelves left their marks on his shoulders and head. His blood blossomed around him.

Still bleeding and aching from banging into the shelves, Thomas lunged to the right and into the desk, the dusty concrete floor giving enough grip to allow him to pivot from one corner into the other. Screaming at his body to move he weakly tried to lunge again but looking back he stopped.

No words were needed for the look in her eyes and the already wet blade, pulled to her chest arm tensing for countless more strikes made Thomas burst into screams.

Rapid blinking. Pain. Shaking. Disbelief at what was happening and…

Fear of what was to come. Fear because he knew deep down, below all his ego.

He deserved it.

Waynev sliced each swing more off-target, slowly covered herself in blood. The stench in the air turned to thick iron, much like a freak accident or butcher shop, except she was the butcher and this animal was still alive.

"SLICE. DICE. THRICE!" Shadow screamed at Waynev to keep slicing, entirely focused on going deeper, and to finish him.

Viccc. Sic. Vwip.

Her lungs pumped the stink of blood and iron into her body, overwhelming her sense of smell. Feeding the already intoxicating feeling.

"This is what you get for TAKING. HURTING. VIOLATING. You MOTHERFUCKER!" Waynev’s obscenities pierced the walls. Then finally.

Thomas still wriggled trying to escape, his cries ending in a garble as the strikes kept coming. The blade not slowing as he spat and choked on his own blood, trying not to accept the end to his pain.

"Waynev," something shouted in the distance, but she paid it no mind.

She was consumed by the damp in the air, the feeling of flesh separating as she plunged her dagger into him repeatedly. Her entire body had been decorated with the blood of her victim, the hunter had become the prey.

"WAYNEV." Waynev stopped mid-strike and dropped the blade.

She was covered, from head to toe, her brown hair typically going to her shoulders was scarred with uneven blotches of blood clearly not hers.

Judging from the red cheeks.

She’d never been that angry. That obsessed with ending him.

"It's over. He's… very much dead," Shadow said unevenly, a clear contrast from her normal confident tone of voice. The reason why Waynev always felt like she knew best.

Waynev looked down at her hands. Blinking. Suddenly feeling tired. Eyes stinging for some reason and cheeks were wet but not unhappy. She turned around at the barrels in the corner. She'd been slowly filling them with… acid to take care of the body.

Waynev struggled towards one of the barrels despite Shadow’s protests to sit down and take a second.

Picking up the barrel she started lugging it towards Thomas-she looked at the body, clarity filling her mind as she parsed the mangled form.

Waynev couldn't stop the bile from coming up her throat and onto the floor. Wiping her mouth, she collapsed onto the group bum first, as the rough cement cut into her.

She'd done it.

Finally after weeks of seeing him flaunt her sister's pictures like a proud flag.

She ended it.

"Are you in stab-le condition yet?" Shadow giggled, barely able to hide them from Waynev.

"Ughh." Barely contained disgust remained, she couldn't be bothered responding. Feeling the gore stick to her made her mind clear up faster than any espresso could have.

"No." Waynev stopped sulking on the ground and stood pivoted towards the door, avoiding the carcass, that animal was dead.

"I'm done. It's over, and I don't want to stay here like…" A killer Waynev thought, feeling slightly guilty, though not over killing Thomas but for what her sister would think of her.

She'd done it. The thought kept pursuing her despite Waynev walking towards the door, her footwear sticking to the floor under her as she walked. A grim reminder of what lay behind. The end. The end of seeing Elise's face every day and the end of her freedom.

Gluck gluc.

Gluck gluc.

Gluck glu-

"Oi Thomas! You already started on her yet?" A new voice startled Waynev out of her stupor came from outside.

"I bet he has," a gruff voice replied with a chuckle. "He can't lose her in this old shack, only one way in and out."

Only furthering Waynev's determination to end this shitty day, she took a final step towards the door.

Reaching for the handle, Waynev said "He didn't start anythi-"

A bright light enveloped her and the world froze.

“Waynev...” A clear yet deep voice parsed.

“I’ve been waiting for you to be ready.”