How to Toy With a Killer's Heart

is follo

hem, but I'd be damned if I dared to turn my head back. Not when they seem to be inching closer by every second that I increas

Mud and water splash behind me and drench my already tattered clothes, but that's t

has nothing on its sides but ugly, dead bushes with leaves that crinkled against each other. Dying in

example, I laughed at my best friend for wearing flops to class because the cool kids, who were just starting to like me, thought it was funny. That was the last time I had e

d me for how he reacted and called me a 'traitor' after I took him to the school dance over a money bet. I needed that hun

had liked since my freshman years. I didn't mean for her to break so many bones that day I pushed her down the stairway; in all

ands of a Killer. I am way too

ndi

lled m

called my f

dly judo moves, and this was my time to turn around, grab the bastard, lift the

stowed upon the human race from the hi

here, frozen

n ar

damned kille

digo

with such sharpness and alertness to face nothing. Nothing, but stray le

y is t

ts in the distance started to raise my suspicion. But, I have flaunted enough foolishness for one night. If my killer is not a figme

ould

w fast I run, I can't shake off that feeling of