Knife In Your Neck
“...the high today will be...”
“...the score still stands at...”
“...we’re here today with...”
“Can you just pick a channel?” someone complained.
“...and there has been yet another mysterious death in the Lyder family. There are signs of murder, but the killer has not yet been located. The police are still searching, and apparently, this is not the first killing performed by these people. Yes, everyone, there are two of them, so keep your doors and windows shut and locked. We have a pair of assassins on the loose. The only hint of any kind is that in the victim’s neck was a small knife, with an exquisitely crafted golden hilt. Also in the news...”
“Hey, Alex, we were on the news again,” another girl called.
The girl called Alex appeared from the adjoining room and stood in the doorway, staring at the TV. “They still don’t know who did it?” she asked.
“Obviously.” Her friend shrugged and smiled. “We did do a pretty good job of covering up. Like always.”
Alex’s lips curved upwards in a sadistic smile. “We got another call from Henry, Jess.”
Jess frowned. “Already? We just finished this job up. Don’t we ever get a break?”
“Apparently not. And we’d better get going. This family just got back; I saw their car pull into the lot just a second ago.”
Jess jumped to her feet and grabbed her jacket and backpack. Alex shrugged on her coat. “It’s cold out,” she informed Jess.
“Yeah, yeah, let’s just get going.”
The two friends ran outside, and were greeted with a cold blast of wind. Jess swore under her breath as she quickly pulled on her thin black coat. “Told you it was cold,” Alex muttered, her face buried in the collar of her dark blue jacket.
They trudged through the streets of New York, not talking, trying to conserve energy.
~~~
They had been walking for a good half-hour when Alex finally said, “Let’s just stop here for now.” She gestured towards a narrow alley. “The buildings should stop the wind from getting to us.”
“F-f-f-f-ine,” Jess said, her teeth chattering.
Alex sighed. “Here,” she said grudgingly, taking off her coat and throwing it at Jess’ head.
“Th-th-th-thank you,” Jess said, pulling Alex’s coat over her own thin one.
“You’re so weak,” Alex said as they walked a little ways down the alley.
“There’s nothing wrong with being cold.”
Alex mumbled under her breath so Jess wouldn’t hear her, “It’s survival of the fittest for people like us.”
~~~
Jess woke up, feeling warm. But it’s freezing outside, she thought, trying to sit up. Something was on top of her, and something was slowly wrapping around her neck. Wh—? “What the—!?” she managed to scream before she gagged.
Alex was hovering over her; one knee in Jess’ stomach, her other leg crushing Jess’ left hand on the ground. “It’s survival of the fittest, buddy,” Alex said, her hands tight around Jess’ neck.
“But why?” Jess gurgled. She could feel her life slipping away.
“Hey,” Alex said, grinning. “We never knew who would kill first. We said we worked together, but I knew it wasn’t true. You know what people say: ‘Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer.’ Looks like whoever made that saying up was totally right.” Jess blinked and fought for air; her right hand clawed at Alex’s face. “An assassin can’t have friends. The world we live in is a dangerous one. It was either going to be you or me. Looks like it was me.”
Alex’s last words were spoken to a dead body. She leaned back on her heels and surveyed the damage. There wasn’t much. There was a ring of bruises around Jess’s neck. “Now, this won’t do at all,” Alex said to herself.
Rolling up her sleeve, Alex pulled out a small knife and sliced open Jess’ throat. The bruises would eventually fade, but the cut would remain. Droplets of blood traced trails down Jess’ slender neck as Alex stood up, taking both hers and Jess’ belongings. “No point in wasting food and heat,” she muttered, pulling the two jackets on. “Oh, almost forgot.”
She kneeled down once more, and took her knife up again. Then, she thrust it into Jess’ neck, until she could see the point coming out the other side. Blood now spurted out, sprinkling the ground and hitting the bricks of the buildings on either side of them.
Alex then dragged Jess’ body down farther, closer to the end of the alley. Quickly, she ran back towards the entrance, and paused only to grab hers and Jess’ stuff.
As she stepped out of the alley and onto the sidewalks of New York, she quickly lost herself in the crowd. But she failed to notice one thing. As soon as she had stepped out of the alley, someone had slipped in. The stranger—who was now looking at Jess’ dead body—muttered, “Looks like it’s my turn.”
~~~
Alex entered a tall, green building, wiping stray wisps of dark brown hair out of her face. She walked through the building, ignoring the greetings from the people in there. Taking the stairs two at a time, she reached the third floor in a matter of minutes and barged into an office. The sign on the door read:
Henry Lyder
President
President
“Henry!” Alex yelled, slamming the door against the wall.
A portly man with no hair and twinkling green eyes looked up. “Hello, Alexis.” Henry smiled. “You look well.”
“Whatever. What’s this about a new job? I just finished mine—kill Jess. Don’t I ever get time off? Ever?”
Henry smiled, even though the anger emanating from Alexis was almost palpable. “My dear Alexis.” He paused to open a drawer and take out a sheet of paper. “You are the best assassin I have. I wouldn’t trust anyone else with this job. You have to do it. And it has to be done as soon as possible.”
“Well, you could have informed me sooner,” Alexis hissed.
Henry ignored her. “His name is Devon Lyder. Here’s all the information you will need.” He opened another drawer and took out a small box. “Here are the knives you asked for,” he said, handing Alexis three small and finely crafted knives with golden hilts.
“Thanks,” Alexis said grudgingly. She looked at the paper, and her eyes widened. “You want me to kill your grandson?”
“Yes.”
Alexis looked as if she was about to say something else, but then just shrugged. “Fine,” she said, pocketing the sheet. “Pay up.”
Henry handed over a thick wad of cash. “Enjoy,” he said, waving as Alexis left the room.
Walking out once again into the cold, Alex began walking down the street, her hands stuffed into her pockets. Not paying attention to where she was going, she bumped into a young man, also with his face buried in his collar and his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry,” Alex mumbled. “I wasn’t paying attention.”
“No, it was my fault,” the man said, smiling.
Emerald green eyes met Alex’s sharp amber ones. She stifled a gasp. This was the man in the picture on the information sheet that Henry had given her. The man was still talking. “I’m Devon Lyder. It’s nice to meet you.” He smiled. “I would shake your hand, but it’s a little cold, so my hands are staying in my pockets.”
Alex shrugged and pushed past him. He followed her. “So, what’s your name?”
Alex paused. “I’m...” she paused. “Alexis.” Under her breath, she muttered, “The girl who’s going to kill you.”
Devon’s smile faded a little, and Alexis thought she saw caution in his face. “Well,” she said, “it was nice talking to you. I have to go.”
She walked off quickly; he didn’t follow her this time.
~~~
Later that night, midnight to be precise, Alexis was sneaking into the rather large and luxurious apartment of Devon Lyder. Scaling the side of a building in the dark was a lot harder than it looked.
But finally, Alexis was in. Staying low to the floor, and testing each floorboard before she stepped, she slowly made her way to Devon’s bedroom.
Something creaked loudly behind her, and she bit back the swear word she was about to spit out as someone grabbed her arm. A hand was wrapped around her throat, and she could feel the point of a knife biting into her neck. She smirked. “You’re not gonna get me that easily!” she shouted, bending forward and throwing the person into the TV.
The person she had thrown struggled to his feet; he had dropped his knife, Alexis noted. She looked back up at the man who was slowly approaching her. She glared. “You knew I was coming, didn’t you?”
Devon—for that’s who the man was—nodded. “You don’t have to do this,” he said. “Just forget whatever my grandfather told you. I’ll help you.”
“Screw that!” Alexis half-yelled, pulling one of her knives out and throwing it at him.
If Devon hadn’t dodged, the knife would have gone right through his neck. Instead, it went through his shoulder. And as small as those knives were, they packed quite a punch. Blood gushed out of his shoulder; he didn’t move, though he was wincing from the pain. “You...you kill for money?” he asked, clutching his shoulder; the pain apparently was unbearable.
Alexis slowly walked over to him and drew her second knife. She grabbed his collar and pulled him towards her. “Yes, I do. You’d be surprised at how rich I am. Yet there is the question of why I sleep on the streets like a homeless person.”
Devon looked at her in confusion, the blood running down the length of his arm; it had already dyed half of his white t-shirt red. “The reason is...I want to. It’s an excellent disguise. You should try it some time. You’d be surprised at how many people underestimate me. It’s almost equal to the number of people that I’ve killed.” Alexis shoved him down to the ground. Leaning over so their faces were only inches apart, she whispered, “Those that underestimate me die. There are, however, the lucky few that get away. And there are my clients. I don’t just kill for money. I kill because I want to.”
The look on Devon’s face was one of disgust and fear. “How can you take a life so easily?” he asked, spitting at her.
Wiping the spit off her face, she replied, “When I watched some gang beat and kill my older sister, I sold my soul. I live to kill. I kill to live. I know I’m going to Hell when I die. I can’t wait. And I’ll see you there. I know exactly who you are.”
“You...” Devon stuttered. Alexis noticed that there was a glint in his eye. “You...talk too much!” he yelled, throwing her to the ground.
Leaping to her feet, she charged. Jumping at the last second, she grabbed the edge of the table that was conveniently placed nearby and swung around, kicking Devon in the head. He flew through the glass door separating the living room the kitchen. It smashed into hundreds of little pieces, and cuts appeared all over his arms and legs. He staggered to his feet and stumbled towards Alexis.
She readied herself, landed a hard punch to his face, and then kicked him in the stomach, sending him flying once again. Devon didn’t get up this time. “Damn,” Alexis muttered. “I made a mess.”
She surveyed the room; it was a mess. The TV was smashed, there was glass all over the floor, and blood splattered the rug and walls. Her gaze fell upon Devon’s form; he was stirring. She didn’t wait for him to get up.
Walking over, she kicked him in the head. She was pretty sure that she had just broken his nose; blood was gushing all over the once spotless kitchen floor. A bloody hand wrapped around her ankle, and pulled her down. Her hand was wrapped around her knife still; she stabbed Devon in the back as she landed, cracking her head against the floor.
Someone will have heard us by now, she thought wildly. Alexis looked at Devon. He was staring at her intently. “You can change,” he managed to say. “I did.”
“Shut up!” she screamed, smashing her knife into his head.
She stared at him. “What’s wrong with me?” she whispered, now staring at the blood running down her hands. “What is this feeling?”
She lurched to her feet and swayed for a moment, feeling light-headed and nauseous. There was a pounding at the door. “What’s going on? What happened? Is everyone okay?”
For the first time, Alexis panicked and didn’t think. Running to the door, she yanked it open before remembering that there were people standing outside. She could just imagine what she looked like—covered in blood, and eyes wide and scared. She pushed past them; they just stared in shock. Finally, one of them yelled, “Stop her!”
Alexis was already down the stairs and outside when someone caught up to her. Without even looking at who it was, she whirled around and shoved a knife into their neck. The person gurgled, and fat fingers clutched her arm. The clouds shifted and moonlight shone down on the two people. Alexis stared in horror. “Henry?” she whispered in a strangled voice. “Oh...my...god...”
She turned and ran. Where she was running to, she didn’t know. She just kept running.
When she finally stopped, Devon’s words floated through her head: “You can change.”
She pulled her last and final golden-hilted knife from her sleeve. Raising it above her, she tilted her head back so she was staring at the sky. “I’ll see you in hell, Devon, Henry,” she whispered.
~~~
The next morning, a very confused newsperson was relating the morning news to New York. “It appears that last night, a fight took place in the apartment of Devon Lyder, resulting in three deaths. Yes, three deaths. It seems the killer, going by the name of Alexis, also killed the grandfather of Devon Lyder, Henry Lyder. Later, Alexis was found with a knife through her neck; a small knife with an exquisitely crafted golden hilt...And the strange thing about this was the identity of Miss Alexis. She in fact is the—”
A bright flash of lightning appeared and a loud thunder clap sounded. All the power went out.
Alexis would cross the river Styx into Hell with all her family.
Criticism, comments, pretty please.
