The Redhead

So, I don’t need to introduce myself by now do I? You all know me and what I do, right? You’ve read ‘First Thoughts’ and ‘Snooker Hall’ to understand my mindset: I am a 50% killer! And by that I mean I kill 50% of the population, ‘men’ to spell it out for you. The men who wolf whistle at women for no reason, the men who start wars, the men who steal, launder money, sell drugs, rob and murder…OK, maybe I do a little bit of murder as well, but that’s just so there are less of the opposite sex on the planet…mine is justified. Ever since childhood I enjoyed ending things existences, I remember ripping the wings off of ladybirds, and pulling the legs off of spiders. I even used to deliberately catch flying insects in jars just so as I could watch them suffocate, and I would always try to make sure they were male. I would spend hours researching the differences between male and female wildlife, just so as no harm would come to womankind. My parents were worried about me, and rightly so…well my mum shouldn’t have been concerned, my dad however should have been. And he was, I mean he looked very anxious as I stood over him with the bloodied knife I just removed from deep inside his chest. I was sad that my mum never spoke to me again after that, I mean I did her a favour and she repaid me by calling the police! I was nearly imprisoned for helping out my own mother, heck the whole female race! But they didn’t catch me, I fled and I have been on the run ever since. My two skills in life seem to be evading capture and killing men, the two complementing each other quite nicely. I mean I have absolutely no idea how they haven’t caught me yet, I have bright red hair and I am not afraid of public places or CCTV, maybe people over think being on the run, hiding in plain sight is clearly the best strategy. But, my mind wanders, I am currently sat in my favourite hunting ground: a nightclub. I love these places, full of steroid fuelled bellends just asking to be exterminated (oup, went a bit Dalek there). Its like fishing, all you need to do is wear a super tight short dress with your boobs half escaping and you watch the fish swarm. Oh hello, here we go, Mr Universe is waddling over, his thighs and arms so big he can no longer walk like a normal person.
“Alright darling? How about I get you a drink, you down it and then we go find a nice place to fuck?” he says laughing while giving his equally idiotic friends a thumbs up. I could feel my eyes starting to roll into my head, but I control it, don’t want to lose the catch. I stand up making sure to expose my breasts as much as I possibly can, highlighting my impressive rack (I do have a pretty good rack) and lean in close, “How about we skip the drink altogether?” I seductively say into his left ear, which smelt like an old dishcloth. I’ve noticed this a lot, these gorillas always put so much aftershave on that you can smell their fragrant scent a mile away, but you get up close and personal and they stink. Anyway, as expected, my prey gladly accepts my proposal and I pull him to the exit, his friends whooping and cheering (they should be, they got off dying tonight). I drag him out of the club and down an alleyway I already scoped out last night, there is only one exit, not many windows and it goes far enough back for any screams not to be heard by anyone on the pavement. We round the final corner at the far end of the alley and he slaps my ass, my eye twitches as I contemplate cutting his balls off there and then, but I control myself, that bit should be savoured. I come to a halt and look back at my victim, he is panting away like he had just ran a marathon, these steroid fuelled morons are all aesthetics, they actually have no fitness whatsoever. I seductively run my hands over my boobs, then my waist, then my bum…this is just to hide the fact I am going for my knife hidden under my skirt, you knew that right? I grab the handle of the knife tightly, after a bit of fumbling around for it, and with a swift bird like movement I swing the blade through his throat. He makes that gargling sound, the one you make when using mouthwash. Some of his blood squirts out on to me as it gushes from his neck. My, my he looks angry, well he shouldn’t have been such a twat then should he. He goes to grab me, but I’m much quicker than a 20 stone ape. I commando roll behind him while slicing through his achilleas tendons, I looked pretty cool if I do say so myself! He crashes to the floor in a heap, unable to scream, and now unable to run, his angry roid rage face now transformed into a fear riddled one. I am ecstatic, I love it when they get scared.
“Now, my hot air filled friend, now its time for the fun part…you didn’t want your balls did you?” I say with a manic smile, I really, REALLY do enjoy this part. He looks terrified bless him…oh well. I slowly pace forwards as I start to sing ‘another one bites the dust’ by Queen, swishing the blade in the air. I get closer, “another one bites the dust…” closer, “do, do doo, doo, do, another one bites the dust” closer, “and another one gone, and another one gone…” CLOSER…*slice*…another one bites the dust!

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