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Rated: ASR · Short Story · Dark · #2241770
Sometimes it's a little too late to properly communicate in a relationship.
Their eyes locked. Her giggles sounded like chimes dancing in the wind. He could have sworn his heart went one beat faster. His breath hitched, it felt as if it was literally taken away. A rush of adrenaline cruised through his body when she approached. Was this what they called love at first sight?

Thinking back on it as the blade plunged his chest, he might have been a little naive. Just a little bit. It might have been his instincts, desperately trying to warn him for the psychopath she turned out to be. "Why", he gurgled, blood seeping out of the corner of his mouth. He could hardly breathe. He was debating over what was
hurting him more: the knife in his chest, suffocating as his own blood filled his lungs or the fact that the girl he loved oh so much was trying to, no, succeeding to kill him?

She didn't answer. Instead, she twisted the knife so it sunk deeper into his carcass. "I don't know", she cried to his lifeless body, "I guess I just want to see the world burn."

A malicious grin broke through her tears.
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