I don't know why I killed him. He was rude, he was crude and he was boozed, but that wasn't it. I saw him making salacious propositions at some clearly underage girls, but I didn't care. All I knew was that I had a rock in my hand and I swung it and then his head cracked.

He hit the wall dazed, raising a hand to the hole in his skull brearily, "W-What the FU-" Was all he got before my second strike. I drove the stone point first into his throat, hearing a ghristly crunch. As I raised the stone again he slumped and began to grip the ruins of his throat with one hand, the other raised as if to ward me off. It failled. I brought the stone smashing through his hand into his skull, then twice again, after which he was quiet clearly dead. I shook off the little trance that I had been in and gasped as I saw my handiwork. It was brutal. I never suspected that I could have done such a thing and I had even less of a clue as to why I had done it. I tossed the stone as far as I could into the river, washed my hands, and tried to forget about the whole affair.

I went home and stripped the clothes that I had been wearing from my body. I tossed them into the burnables can in the right, gave it a bit of gas, and lit them. They burned too prettily. Then I went inside and took a too-long too-hot shower to cleanse myself. I pay extra attention to my hands and feet and all the tiny crevices that blood could creep. I cleaned, cleaned, and cleaned some more, and when I was done it was all I could do to fall onto my bed already deep asleep.

When I awoke I was calm. It was pouring outside. I remembered what I had done, to whom, though I still didn't understand why. A thousand thoughts flitted through my mind- Why had I killed him? The police would be after me- did I cover my tracks? I don't know, yes, they will, and yes I did, and whatever I hadn't managed the storm would take care of for me. A hundred more questions barraged my mind and I was able to answer or ignore them all until my mind was quiet.

So put on my school uniform and walked to school. School was boring that day, except for the news that the buses would be paired with a police escort. There was apparently a high level gang going on and the opening shot had been fired very near. I bet I could pinpoint the exact location, in fact.

The rest of the month fullowed much in that vein, only I was escorted TO school instead of just back. News reports showed up daily, turnes out the man I had clobbered had been a key link in the sexual slave trade and it was a race beentweenn the gangers and the police to disassemble what had previously been an absolutely mammoth operation. I stll didn't know why I had killed him, but at least I wasn't feeling any guilt. That gang ended up wiped out and the police record closed and everything went back to normal, just with me having a tiny little secret on the side.Two years passed, I graduated, and entered the Dunkleheim Universty of

>>1922
what

Anonymous 2011/07/14(Thu)11:52 No. 1924 ID: bf5b3d
File 131066957573.png - (85.84KB , 600x600 , 5.png )

Bit of the RubyQuest love.
Needs all the help it can get. I am not good at draw? Feathers on his wings just look like his arms are melting. I will fix this. Maybe.

>>1924
The feathers need sharper points.