Joe stumbled into the alleyway. His head was pounding, he could barely form a conscious thought. His vision blurred and tunnelled, focusing on only the cowering man in front of him.

“Joe- Joe, stop-” Billy shakily commanded, panicking. Joe ignored him. He didn’t even register Billy had said anything. He slowly reached into his back pocket and pulled out something long and shiny.

Billy’s already scared expression changed to terrified as he took in the six inch long hunting knife in Joe’s tightly clenched fist. He began to whimper pathetically, pleading for his life. Joe ignored him once again. Before Billy could even attempt to escape, Joe was in front of him, holding the serrated blade at the ready.

Joe stared at Billy for a fraction of a second. There was no dramatic speech, no yelling, no crying on either end. Billy was frozen still, and Joe simply said one word in a flat, monotone voice.


The blade flashed and buried itself deep inside Billy’s chest. He screamed, the sound echoing off the walls of the empty alleyway. Joe turned and walked away without looking back, leaving the knife, the growing pool of blood, and the slowly dying body of his once best friend.

Billy’s body had gone numb, and he could feel his life force draining away, his heartbeat slowing, his vision dimming. Through his half-closed eyes, he made out the figure of someone previously unnoticed detaching from the shadows and running over to his mutilated body. He heard, rather than saw, the pitter-patter of her sneakers hitting the pavement. He tasted her salty tears on his face as she sobbed piteously like a newborn baby taken away from his mother. And he felt her arms around him, holding him tightly as his last breath left him, and Allison collapsed over a lifeless corpse.

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