The young man was now headless.
Blood poured forth from his opened neck, coating the old wooden floor with silken grace. Ten minutes ago this strong lad had been a whole person; head and all! Now, he was a decapitated corpse with well over twenty stab wounds in his manly chest. It's a funny thing that his head had been gruesomely removed with the aid of a rather large carving knife.
Don?t cry for him folks. Don't! His mommy warned him not to play with knives, the stupid son of a bitch!
The Clown Princess stood in front of the large mirror not more than twelve paces from the mutilated body. There she stood, like a demented angel, decked out in her dark stalking garb. Why the mirror? Well, she was happily playing with her new wig. It was PINK!! Yes, PINK! Pink afterall was a sexy girl?s best friend.
Hey, that dead girl that they found in the Glen...that Leslie chickie. She had pink hair. She sure did! See folks, everyone loves pink!!!
Leslie's murderer must have noticed those locks of shocking, vibrant color.
Like red to a mad bull.
Like blood to a ravenous shark.
Pink, pink, pink! It must have been a beacon!!!
That young woman had been butchered. Strung up in the Southern Glen like a slab of beef. Pink, pink, pink hair!!! Wow!
It was no secret that even Carnal had the utmost respect for the inexplicable person who had carved that little bitch up. So, naturally, if it was pink that had caught that killer's fanciful eye, then it was pink that SHE would wear in honor of this ?West End Killer?.
Yes. To show a warrior?s tribute to this shadowy slayer or band of slayers, Kya would now don the hair color of their most recent slaughter victim: Pink! Pink, pink, pink to honor the dutiful psycho who had gutted that Fae chickie like a holiday pig.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Oink! Oink! A piggy's squeal puts the ?M? in meal! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Carnal did so love her muses.
Her gloved hands adjusted the brightly colored wig atop her head. Her alabaster painted face was smeared with gore as even her red clown lips dripped with the dead man's blood. Decapitating a struggling young stud with a knife took a little bit of moxie. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! MOXIE she had plenty of!! And now she had a severed head to add to her altruistic war collection. Lucky night!!
Shocking pink bangs hung over her painted forehead. The clown assassin leered into the mirror as her mocking grin pulled tighter. Her voice was eerie and childlike, laced with both malice and sheer lunacy: "Dear god....please bless me and my new friend Mr. Headless-A**hole over here. We are both humbly praying for your guidance on this oh so lonely night. We have a few noble requests to make of you, divine one.
Firstly lord, please eradicate those nosey, fat, Scathachian whores. Peel the skanky flesh from their bones and then eat them up as if they were roasted piggies on a plate. All of them. No one will care. They deserve it. Blah! Justice is overrated in the eyes of a carnival queen! Let 'em all rot in a box!
Secondly, please burn down that dumb-a** orphanage in the center of the city that blocks my view of the park. Burn it with thick oil and hot, hot fire! Scorch it so that nothing will emerge alive. Just little charred bones and aromatic ashes to mark the righteous scene. HAHAHAHAHA!
Oh and god, please kill that annoying detective Alain D'Mourir as well. I still owe him plenty of heartache for trying to have pretty ole' me incarcerated all those years ago. I would really, really, really appreciate it if you tore his f**ken nuts off and then sliced his pitiful face to ribbons with a meat cleaver. Then, you could feed the rest of him to your flock of demented, rabid geese! The geese are always a plus!
Ummmmmmmmm..yeah! And Mr. Headless-A**hole here would also like it if you took Detective D'Mourir's purple haired girlfriend, that Cassandra bitch, and smashed her f**ken legs and arms to a juicy pulp with your holy sledgehammer of unparalleled omnipresent vengeance. She sucks. So, ahhhhh yeah. That would be nice. Okay? Ummmmm, that?s all. Oh, oh, wait! I give you thanks! BOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
As her sinister laughter echoed in the house, Carnal glared down at the brutalized corpse on the floor. One dead. More to go. The Clown Princess of Crime was heading out to play tonight. Good old Krysira Clayborne of the not-so-nice BlackWolf Guild had sent word to her that, in fact, Ms. Clayborne's "employer" wanted to have deep words tonight.
Tonight. Tonight. Just at the stroke of midnight.
The IronHelm Flats. Yikes!! Word on the street was that Krysira had just bought that place a month ago. Sick!
That abandoned old tower of decay and shadow. Miserable. Frightening. Haunted? HA HA! She loved the sound of it. Wouldn't miss it for the world! Not a f**king chance of a no-show.
Carnal was in actuality antsy for another really delicious assignment ever since she had to put the Jewell Ravenlock-Kidd hit on hold. That blue haired bitch took off to the open sea with some jackass pirate husband of hers. Typical Fae c**t trying to steal the thrill and passion of the hunt. The hunt, and of course the kill. Empress Bitch would suffer for that when she got back to shore. Oh yes, yes, yes, yes indeed.
BUT, now Ms. Krysira and her superior were calling her out again. Here, Carnal Carnal Carnal! We got more yummy yummy treats for you if you hack some other poor bastard up for us! HAH! The things a clown will do for charitable causes!! What could be more charitable than ridding the world of loathsome, worthless, worm-ridden, dumb f**ks who droned on in their meager and dull existence on a daily basis???
See??! A true clown?s work of spreading bountiful joy was NEVER ever done!!!
So, her presence was requested at The IronHelm Flats. Be there or be square! Be there or be a rectangle!!!! Be there or be dead!!! BLAH! She was already dead. Dead and loving it!! Lalalalalalalalalalalalalala! No matter at all. Really though, she honestly couldn't wait to finally meet this shadowy person who was pulling Krysira's delicate strings. Kinda scary huh? BOO!!
One last look in the blood spattered mirror. A tight flick of her newfound wig's bangs and then she was out the rear window with a perfectly executed handspring. WHEEEEEEEE!!!
As she moved through the dim side streets, like a child's toy possessed, wild images and thoughts dashed in and about her twisted mind. Above all, however, Carnal truly hoped that Krysira Clayborne and her unseen boss liked the color pink.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
Blood poured forth from his opened neck, coating the old wooden floor with silken grace. Ten minutes ago this strong lad had been a whole person; head and all! Now, he was a decapitated corpse with well over twenty stab wounds in his manly chest. It's a funny thing that his head had been gruesomely removed with the aid of a rather large carving knife.
Don?t cry for him folks. Don't! His mommy warned him not to play with knives, the stupid son of a bitch!
The Clown Princess stood in front of the large mirror not more than twelve paces from the mutilated body. There she stood, like a demented angel, decked out in her dark stalking garb. Why the mirror? Well, she was happily playing with her new wig. It was PINK!! Yes, PINK! Pink afterall was a sexy girl?s best friend.
Hey, that dead girl that they found in the Glen...that Leslie chickie. She had pink hair. She sure did! See folks, everyone loves pink!!!
Leslie's murderer must have noticed those locks of shocking, vibrant color.
Like red to a mad bull.
Like blood to a ravenous shark.
Pink, pink, pink! It must have been a beacon!!!
That young woman had been butchered. Strung up in the Southern Glen like a slab of beef. Pink, pink, pink hair!!! Wow!
It was no secret that even Carnal had the utmost respect for the inexplicable person who had carved that little bitch up. So, naturally, if it was pink that had caught that killer's fanciful eye, then it was pink that SHE would wear in honor of this ?West End Killer?.
Yes. To show a warrior?s tribute to this shadowy slayer or band of slayers, Kya would now don the hair color of their most recent slaughter victim: Pink! Pink, pink, pink to honor the dutiful psycho who had gutted that Fae chickie like a holiday pig.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Oink! Oink! A piggy's squeal puts the ?M? in meal! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Carnal did so love her muses.
Her gloved hands adjusted the brightly colored wig atop her head. Her alabaster painted face was smeared with gore as even her red clown lips dripped with the dead man's blood. Decapitating a struggling young stud with a knife took a little bit of moxie. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! MOXIE she had plenty of!! And now she had a severed head to add to her altruistic war collection. Lucky night!!
Shocking pink bangs hung over her painted forehead. The clown assassin leered into the mirror as her mocking grin pulled tighter. Her voice was eerie and childlike, laced with both malice and sheer lunacy: "Dear god....please bless me and my new friend Mr. Headless-A**hole over here. We are both humbly praying for your guidance on this oh so lonely night. We have a few noble requests to make of you, divine one.
Firstly lord, please eradicate those nosey, fat, Scathachian whores. Peel the skanky flesh from their bones and then eat them up as if they were roasted piggies on a plate. All of them. No one will care. They deserve it. Blah! Justice is overrated in the eyes of a carnival queen! Let 'em all rot in a box!
Secondly, please burn down that dumb-a** orphanage in the center of the city that blocks my view of the park. Burn it with thick oil and hot, hot fire! Scorch it so that nothing will emerge alive. Just little charred bones and aromatic ashes to mark the righteous scene. HAHAHAHAHA!
Oh and god, please kill that annoying detective Alain D'Mourir as well. I still owe him plenty of heartache for trying to have pretty ole' me incarcerated all those years ago. I would really, really, really appreciate it if you tore his f**ken nuts off and then sliced his pitiful face to ribbons with a meat cleaver. Then, you could feed the rest of him to your flock of demented, rabid geese! The geese are always a plus!
Ummmmmmmmm..yeah! And Mr. Headless-A**hole here would also like it if you took Detective D'Mourir's purple haired girlfriend, that Cassandra bitch, and smashed her f**ken legs and arms to a juicy pulp with your holy sledgehammer of unparalleled omnipresent vengeance. She sucks. So, ahhhhh yeah. That would be nice. Okay? Ummmmm, that?s all. Oh, oh, wait! I give you thanks! BOO! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"
As her sinister laughter echoed in the house, Carnal glared down at the brutalized corpse on the floor. One dead. More to go. The Clown Princess of Crime was heading out to play tonight. Good old Krysira Clayborne of the not-so-nice BlackWolf Guild had sent word to her that, in fact, Ms. Clayborne's "employer" wanted to have deep words tonight.
Tonight. Tonight. Just at the stroke of midnight.
The IronHelm Flats. Yikes!! Word on the street was that Krysira had just bought that place a month ago. Sick!
That abandoned old tower of decay and shadow. Miserable. Frightening. Haunted? HA HA! She loved the sound of it. Wouldn't miss it for the world! Not a f**king chance of a no-show.
Carnal was in actuality antsy for another really delicious assignment ever since she had to put the Jewell Ravenlock-Kidd hit on hold. That blue haired bitch took off to the open sea with some jackass pirate husband of hers. Typical Fae c**t trying to steal the thrill and passion of the hunt. The hunt, and of course the kill. Empress Bitch would suffer for that when she got back to shore. Oh yes, yes, yes, yes indeed.
BUT, now Ms. Krysira and her superior were calling her out again. Here, Carnal Carnal Carnal! We got more yummy yummy treats for you if you hack some other poor bastard up for us! HAH! The things a clown will do for charitable causes!! What could be more charitable than ridding the world of loathsome, worthless, worm-ridden, dumb f**ks who droned on in their meager and dull existence on a daily basis???
See??! A true clown?s work of spreading bountiful joy was NEVER ever done!!!
So, her presence was requested at The IronHelm Flats. Be there or be square! Be there or be a rectangle!!!! Be there or be dead!!! BLAH! She was already dead. Dead and loving it!! Lalalalalalalalalalalalalala! No matter at all. Really though, she honestly couldn't wait to finally meet this shadowy person who was pulling Krysira's delicate strings. Kinda scary huh? BOO!!
One last look in the blood spattered mirror. A tight flick of her newfound wig's bangs and then she was out the rear window with a perfectly executed handspring. WHEEEEEEEE!!!
As she moved through the dim side streets, like a child's toy possessed, wild images and thoughts dashed in and about her twisted mind. Above all, however, Carnal truly hoped that Krysira Clayborne and her unseen boss liked the color pink.
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!