The streets of Queens are really dangerous at this hour — crawling with the worst kind of human scum.
Veronica always says the same thing: Stay away from those places, there are bad people out there! Did you read the New York Times this morning? They found five men with their throats slit in one of those streets — probably a gang war. Promise me you'll never go there, not even during the day!
I love when she acts like a wild nymphomaniac, but I love it even more when she gets all protective like that.
By "bad people," she probably meant the three guys who just noticed me walking alone through the backstreets toward Midtown — and who decided to turn the same way I did, down a narrow, dimly lit alley.
I can hear them speeding up behind me, their footsteps echoing through the alley — their intentions are pretty obvious.
Their footsteps close in, until…
«Don't make a sound or I'll kill you!» one of them growls.
At the same time, the other two grab me by the arms and slam me against the wall, while the one who threatened me pulls out a gun and presses it against my stomach.
Wow. Big surprise. Who could've seen that coming? I'm truly surprised…
«Didn't your mommy teach you to stay away from places like this at night?» the one with the gun sneers.
The other two chuckle under their breath, throwing me the same kind of pathetic threats.
«Yeah, my mom did tell me there are bad people around here, which is exactly why you three should be careful too — it's really dangerous,» I reply with that same sinister grin.
BOOM!
A blast tears through the quiet of the night.
That little provocation is all it takes to make the armed guy snap.
I guess they're the kind of thugs who dish out threats but can't take them.
First, there's the cold — the bullet tearing straight through my stomach. Then comes the heat, the blood spilling out, soaking my insides before dripping down my clothes, and… fuck, it burns like hell!
«W-What the fuck…?» the guy stammers as the other two jump back, instantly letting go of my arms.
They're terrified — I can see it in their faces.
I don't know if they're more horrified by the hole in my stomach closing up almost instantly, right in front of them… or by my eyes.
Blue like the open sea, bright as sapphires. But right now they're no longer blue — they're glowing in a just-as-beautiful but slightly more unsettling blood-red.
The armed guy, completely overwhelmed by panic, fires two more shots.
One bullet hits me square in the shoulder, punching clean through. The other slams into my jaw at point-blank range.
Same thing as before, obviously — both wounds seal up instantly.
Then, the other two change tactics and pull out knives.
Stubborn little idiots, aren't they? Not that running would've helped them anyway — they were doomed the moment they stepped into this alley with hostile intentions.
I'd love to keep toying with them, but honestly I'm tired. Right now, all I want is to go home and take a nice, long hot bath.
The terror in their eyes just moments ago is nothing next to what I see now, the instant they notice the deep gash opening across my palm.
Rivers of blood pour from the wound, yet none of it falls to the ground the way it normally would.
Instead, it floats, suspended in the air around my hand, swirling faster and faster, stretching out and hardening until it takes the shape of a massive crimson axe — metallic, as if forged from my own blood.
The three of them erupt in inhuman screams, deafening and panicked, but they last only a heartbeat — just long enough for the razor edge of my axe to slice clean through their flimsy necks with a single swing.
Well… since I'm already here, I may as well drink a little, even if scum like this tastes awful because of all the alcohol and drugs they drown themselves in day in and day out.
I don't think I've ever tasted blood this disgusting, but hey, better than nothing.
Anyway, I should get out of here fast — I can't risk running into a Monster Slayer.
I'm sure tomorrow morning the New York Times will report three more criminals found decapitated.
Damn gang wars…