We all must be stopped one day

And then I’m falling. I missed the jump and I’m dropping to the street below. Barely thinking, my mind does the right thing before I hit the ground and I fall through it. Somehow I stop myself and I pull my body up and out of the pavement. Don’t ask me how that part works, it just happens. It’s like swimming, except the water is concrete and you’re a shadow. But somehow it happens and I’m stood on the ground once more and I’m staring at the back of a man. The back of a man bent over an unconscious woman. The fucker’s just unbuttoning his belt. I got here just in time, I think to myself. But I didn’t. She’s already been hurt.

I grab the bastard and throw him into the wall. I phase him and he becomes weightless and the laws of physics throw him harder. As he leaves my grip he becomes corporeal and hits the wall. The sound is… I don’t know. I don’t know how to describe the sound. Go and throw a live body into a wall and then imagine if you could’ve thrown him with the same force you would a tennis ball. That’s the sound. That’s the sound of my first fuck up.

-Alice

So many paths to follow

I’d killed her. Or at least that was what the police report said. I wasn’t really in a position to argue. I mean, not that I didn’t want to or that I believed it to be true, but my memory of the night was hazy. They had witnesses as well. They’d seen me leave with her and someone (though their reliability is somewhat in question) had apparently heard it all and discovered me after the fact. Apparently I was stood over her, laughing somewhat. I don’t remember anything between the party and waking up this morning, trapped in a cell. The first I knew of it was when I was dragged into an interview room and bombarded with a scenario I had no way of either confirming or denying. I think I just stared at them blankly. I might have said a couple of things, but I doubt they really mattered. It doesn’t look like I’ll be found innocent unless someone decides to wander in and confess. I very much doubt that’ll happen. I very much doubt there is even anyone to confess. I’m not saying I believe I’m a killer or that I think myself capable of doing such a thing. I’m merely saying that she could be very annoying at times.

-Alice

Exactly what you wanted from life

How about a test? How about a broken limb? How about I put my hand over your mouth before you get a chance to speak? I push you down to the floor. leaning on your chest. You struggle to breathe as I hold you down. I’m crushing your chest. Splintering your ribs. It won’t be long before they puncture your lungs and every breath you take will simply escape. I’ll break more bones. I’ll charge you extra for each second it takes. I’ll charge you less for how much I enjoy it. I’ll tell everyone the story and how I feel no remorse. I’ll tell them how I held your hands and pulled you close. Tell them how it had to end. How it ended with a whisper and a cry. How your loss brought not a single tear to my eye. How I felt your final breath leave your body. How it felt. How it came about. How it affected me. How it was so good to me. Or maybe I won’t. Maybe I’ll just take you to bed. Kiss your forehead and let you sleep another night. With me there by your side. Watching you and waiting for that perfect moment. You’re a work of art. I’m a vandal.

-Alice