She Can't Live

            “Why are you doing this to me?” she cried out, the tears free falling from her cheeks as she held the knife out in front of her, aimed at her stomach.

            A boy who looked no more than twelve came out of the shadows of the alley way that he had been hiding in. His feet were a good foot off the ground, just floating in the air. He stood tall with an air of authority, his hands folded behind his back as his blue eyes pierced into her frightened ones.

            “Where would be the fun if I told you that?” he cackled as he glided closer.

            “Because, if I’m going to die, I want to know that it’s not just because you love the kill,” she spat, suddenly becoming brave.

            “If I killed just for the love of killing, we wouldn’t be in this position. You see, people who love to kill for the love of it, they take their time. They stalk their victims, get to know all of their habits to make things more interesting. But, that’s not why I kill,” he said while shaking his head as a lock of his black hair fell on his head and hid his eyes.

            “Then why do you kill?” she asked curiously.

            “I’m glad you asked that. I never get tired of telling this story,” he grinned devilishly at her, an evil glint in his eyes.

            “You may not believe this, but my 100^th birthday is soon approaching. And on that day, my appearance will no longer be the one of a twelve year old boy, but a grown man. Now, I bet you’re asking, ‘What does this have to do with anything?’ And in answer to that, it has everything to do with it!” he bellowed as his fist connected with a wall, creating a huge gap.

            He quickly regained his composure as he flicked his hair out of his face. “You see, on that day when I transform, my looks are supposed to be absolutely stunning. So stunning that no female will be able to resist me. It is also said that on that day I will fall in love with a lowly mortal,” he seethed.

            “The legend has it that she is my downfall. Because of this one female, I will end up being killed, and not being able to claim my throne from my father. And I can’t have that,” he said while once again resting his gaze on her.

            “But, if I can kill her before my 100^th birthday, I won’t fall in love with her, and then I won’t die and lose my crown. I can’t risk that you are that woman, so I must kill you,” he said, his eyes boring into hers once more.

            “Wh- who are you?” she stuttered, her fear now back in full force.

            “My name is Daemon,” he said as he held a hand out in front of him, “and I’m the son of the Devil.”

            He clutched his hand into a fist and pantomimed ramming his fist into his stomach while the girl cried out in agony as the knife held in her hands actually went into her stomach. Blood spilled out of her mouth as she crumpled to the ground.

            Daemon unclenched his fist and held it out one more, his eyes targeting the area where her heart lay beating furiously. “I’ll see you in hell,” he laughed as he clenched his fist one final time as her whole body shook in tremors, leaving her dead.

            He glided over to where her still body lay, tsking as he looked down at her. “What a shame, she was so beautiful. Oh well, she’ll make a lovely decoration,” he said as he took the knife and sliced her head off. He grabbed the hair and held her head up, examining it closely.

            “I know exactly where to put you,” he grinned as he put the dripping head in a bag that he called out of nowhere. Once the head was in the bag, he teleported underground to dispose of the head and to plot out his next victim.

Like I said, this story was once again for a contest. The contest calls for the best bad guy/ villain dude. Do you think that I created a good bad guy?

I really don't planning on writing any more to this. But then again...

And who knows? This could possibly turn into something down the road once "I Wish It Would Rain" is finished... depending on whether you like it or not.