WARNING: if you don't like excessive violence or don't have a stomach for blood and gore, I don't suggest reading on.

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I walked along the hard pavement, blending in miserably with the cold dying day. How fitting. This image matched my predicament exactly: the last of today’s warmth dying from its brief moment in time making way for tomorrow to come. I was the day- dying to make room for another.

The girl walked behind me, a cold presence of raw force. She held her steely blade point against the small of my back, prodding me along towards… wherever we were going. If I slowed down too much, she would poke me with the tip, sometimes drawing blood too.

“Hurry up, Lackerman,” she growled with an icy tone. She dug the edge of the knife against my skin. I stumbled, but picked up the pace.

"Left."

I turned left, crossing the avenue and away from the busy sidewalk. We headed down a dark, desolate street where a few homeless guys panhandled for money to buy drugs, but with one look at my captor they scurried away, shooting me sympathetic looks. I wondered what was going on, but she didn't give me much time for thought.

"Stop," she commanded, sliding the knife around so it rested at my throat. Of course I halted immediately. I didn't want to die by walking into her blade.

We were standing in front of a deserted church. The once-fresh, white stone of the building was now grayed and grimy from the years it had seen. The faded stained glass windows were cracked and broken, the door hinges creaky with rust. Clearly, no one had used this place in a long time.

"Climb." She pushed me along up the stairs. She stepped up to the door, fumbling with the lock. Her back was turned, so I tried to make a break for it. Faster than my eye could follow, her knife whipped around my throat in a flash of silver. I gulped.

"Where do you think you're going?" she demanded coldly. "Go inside."

I could see there was no point in running anymore. I had to do what she asked and find out what she wanted from me. I had already given her everything, though: money, trinkets of jewelry, love... What more could she want?

"Vanessa, please! Why are you doing this? What do you want from me?"

She closed the door behind me. It slammed home with an echoing clang. She turned around and considered me with her steely blue eyes.

"What do I want?" she began slowly. "Well, I don't think you'll like it very much."

"Anything, I'll do anything; just tell me what you want!"

"What do I want?" she repeated. "Well, Davis Lackerman, I want you to die," Vanessa said in the most serious voice, speaking with a slow curiosity that made her sound like a psychotic little girl. Maybe she was. Hopefully I just didn't hear her right.

"Excuse me?" I asked incredulously.

"You heard me," she said in that same sly tone. "I know you did.  You're good at hearing things you want to hear, so I'm sure you can hear things you don't want to hear, you just don't want to acknowledge them."

Huh?

"There's been too much lying," she went on. "You said you loved me, but you didn't. You flirted with that girl who told you only the things you wanted to hear about yourself, deaf to my words which offered clarity, honesty, consequence."

Oh that. "Look, I'm sorry I was talking with her, but I wasn't flirting. I'm allowed to talk to other girls. It's natural. I love you so much, and she reminded me of you-"

"Enough excuses!" she snapped acidly. “You’re a greedy, incompetent fool, just like the rest of them, who only thinks of himself, for himself! Get up! Walk forward!”

She jammed the handle of her knife into my back where she had cut me earlier, making me gasp in pain. I got to my feet and stumbled forwards toward the front of the spacious, deteriorating cathedral. A small, crumbling altar stood at the end of the aisle. A thin, watery shaft of light shined down from a crack in the ceiling, illuminating the swirling dust in the air and casted shadows on the offering plate.

"Kneel. Down on your knees.” I bowed before the altar, thinking maybe it was some kind of ritual that I ought to follow. I was on her territory now with her rules.

She stepped up on a block that sat behind the column that supported the plate.

“Do you know what this is?” she asked mysteriously. I shook my head. She continued. “It is a shrine of sorts, where priests and preachers once stood upon a podium and spun reels of lies about the afterlife. Now it’s my shrine, my shrine of lies I’ve told— to my father, to my brother, to Carl, to Timothy, to Stephen— and now… to you.” She grinned like a madman, lip curled back, top row of teeth flashing white in the light. I shuddered.

“What are you saying Vanessa?” I asked, trying to keep my quivering fear out of my voice. She smiled wider.

“I'm saying you'll meet their fate, very soon.” She closed her eyes and raised her hands over the altar like she was praying to the heavens above. She opened her eyes and looked down at me, stepping off the block and around the altar’s stand, stopping three inches away from my lowered head.

“It’s time to die," she said, leaning down over me. She flicked her knife and a red horizontal slash appeared across my wrist. "That's for flirting," she spat. "Name your other sins, one by one. Slowly."

"Wh-what?" I stammered.

"NAME YOUR SINS, your WRONGDOINGS, your faults!" she growled at me. I closed my eyes, trembling.

"Or would you rather die now??" she hissed in my ear, making me flinch.

I closed my eyes and whispered, "Cheating. Lying."

"Good," she half whispered, half growled. Her voice was deadly, dangerous, and cold as ice. "More." Her knife grinded against the stone of the altar twice, as if she were sharpening it for each of my "sins".

"Betrayal." I could hear the sharp tone of my own word cut through the clamor like butter. Or maybe it had always been quiet and I was only hearing the brewing storm in my head.

"That's three," she said, dragging her blade across the stone once more. "Any more?" I shook my head, on the verge of breaking down.

"Not-not that I c-can think of," I spoke softly.

Before I could blink, her knife lashed out and three horizontal red lines stung my forearm. It felt a lot sharper than before.

"Oh, there's plenty more…" she said softly in a menacing voice. "But since you don't seem to know, I will tell you for you. But first…"

She paused, and I know this only happens in movies but I could swear her eyes glazed over as they rolled up towards the ceiling. All traces of humanity were void when she looked booked back down at me- hollow, empty, unforgiving.

"Pick a number, one through seven; that's the way you'll go to heaven," she rasped in an eerily haunting voice. "Some are short and painless death, but others long 'till your last breath!"

"What if I don't?" I asked defiantly. It was the last act of defiance I'd ever make alive.

"Then I will choose for you; a painful death will do-"

" TWO! Two!" I cried out, covering my head with my arms.

"Excellent choice, you may rejoice; the death is fast, the pain won't last," she practically chortled. "But first, so you don't scream…"

She lunged at me with the knife. I tried to shy away, but she landed heavily on my chest, knocking me to the ground. She pinned my arms beneath her legs and her knife dove at my throat. I opened my mouth to scream.

"None of that now," she snarled like a crazed animal that foams at the mouth in an unstoppable fury. Her blade buried itself in my neck. A searing pain racked my body. When it had somewhat subsided, I looked up through my blurred vision to see her standing up smiling.

'What just happened?' I thought, but when I tried to vocalize my question, all that came out was a terrible sort of wheezing rasped. I frowned.

"What happened?" Vanessa asked. "Is that what you were trying to say?" She held up a blob of stringy red guts. "Well, I cut out your vocal chords. Now they won't hear you scream." She grinned menacingly. "Be glad you listed all of your sins, otherwise this could have been more painful."

'I don't see how that could have hurt more.' I was glad I didn't have to find out.

She raised her knife once more, but didn't bring it down on me. She tossed my vocal chords aside and sat on my legs, pressing the tip of her blade at the bottom of my rib cage.

"You said Number 2, yes?" I nodded, petrified. Even the effort strained my neck and sent another flash of pain through me. "Be glad. It's quick."

With that, she jammed the point upward toward my heart. I barely even registered the pain.

"Oh and by the way, my name is Sasha." She grinned.

As my vision swam and began to blur, I watched her stand up. I saw a single tear fall, and her lips mouthed what looked to be, 'I'm sorry.' Then the darkness closed over me and I lost consciousness.

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Hey guys, I'm so glad I could finally find time to update! So yeah, this is my new story! I decided to move away a bit from fantasy (although there will be some paranormal magic going on here), so this is like my first horror/mystery/thriller/etc. type. I hope it's good so far! I'm working on Chapter 2 right now, although I think I'm having a touch of writer's block aka. a sad lacking of desire to write when I could be playing Minecraft or watching YouTube. But anyways, I managed to get this out between my busy life. I hope you enjoyed, and those of you who wanted to puke during the murder scene should have listened to my warning at the top ;) Anyways, as always, I welcome comments corrections and advice. If you are enjoying my writing, please click that little star to show your support! Every bit counts! I will update again when I can, but for now rock on my warriors of MistyClan!!! Talk to y'all soon!
-Misty out