|Erica's first kill
Author: I'mMeCuzTheSkyIsBlue PM
How was Erica during her first kill? She had hunted down the men who killed and tortured her father. Rated T for violence and killing. Sounds worse than it actually is :Rated: Fiction T - English - Erica R. - Words: 1,365 - Published: 05-09-12 - Status: Complete - id: 8100288
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Back story (the first fugitive she killed)
Erica glared at the head in front of her, nudging it with her semi automatic, sending the man whom the head belonged to stumbling forward. He groaned, reaching for his head, but stopping as he remembered the scary woman who had flung his tables and chairs into his backyard pool and smashed his family portrait, instead, he ignored the constant throbbing pain in his head and continued walking where ever her Beretta steered him, he walked faster and his strides longer. "So" Erica began, shoving one hand in her pocket, the other still holding the gun "you killed my father; didn't you?" He winced at her bitter and threatening tone of voice, and shuffled a few inches away from her in obvious discomfort, when he didn't reply she moved around him and kicked him in the gut, again and again and again, until she was satisfied and he was a bloody mess on the floor, unmoving apart from his shivering and wincing, she stood up again, her body rigid, her jaw clenched and her glare unwavering. He saw her reach for her back pocket and his eyes widened, his breath hitching, and he could have sworn his heart skipped a beat.
She withdrew her and slowly, her face relaxed and neutral, she forced herself to smirk "you think I would torture you like you did my father?" the man shook his head as fast as he could, hoping his actions could convey the words he was too shocked to say. She crossed her arms "don't worry, I'll make it as quick and painless as I can, your death, that is, what comes before, though, if you don't answer me may take hours. She looked down at him, eyes void of emotion, "I actually only have 1 question" she inhaled deeply, bracing herself for the answer she may or may not receive "why…" she began gravely "why, did you kill my father?" The man blinked rapidly. He knew what the wrong answer could do. He opened his mouth and closed it again, and he opened it again, his body now shivering. "I didn't pull the trigger," he said, meekly and desperately. As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say, Erica's fists clenched and she gritted her teeth, wanting more than anything to beat the right answer out of him. She counted to 10 in her head, although that did not do much good, as her vision was blocked, still tinted with red. She tensed her whole body, desperately trying to control her impulses, she couldn't give this man the satisfaction that he would die the same way her father did. So she forced a smile "wrong answer."
She crouched down to his level, enjoying the way his body quaked and he subconsciously inched away from her the nearer she came to him. "You see, you may not have pulled the trigger, but it doesn't mean you are any less responsible for his death." "I'm sorry, please don't kill me, I'm sorry, the other guys, they made me do it!" he squealed, in a desperate last plea for his life. She shook her head, "so what you just stand by and let them torture and kill him and participate when you feel like it? Don't even start with all that 'they made me do it' crap!" she growled, the volume of her voice escalating with every word until the sound echoes through the woods around them. The animals quaked in fear as the sound as loud as an earthquake shook the leaves of the trees.
When the man didn't make a sound, and the only sign of his life was his subconscious inching away from her and his heavy, laboured breathing, she decided to end it.
"You know" she said wistfully "I'm going to kill you now, but don't worry, even though you have no family, there will still be a part of you left on this planet." She aimed the gun at his head, while he pondered what she meant and suddenly, her whole sentence registered in his brain and the thought of death hit him like a tonne of bricks, he tensed and suddenly sprung to his feet, trying to wrestle the gun out of her vice-like grip.
She punched him and he fell to the floor, he hooked his legs around her knees and pulled, hoping the woman would fall, and she did. But Erica saw what he was trying to do and anticipated the swing to her gut, she grabbed his am and paralyzed it, she turned him fully onto his back and placed her foot over his throat to ensure if he tried to escape, she could stop him easily. She sighed when the man still squirmed under her foot. "Please don't try that again, I don't want to have to kill you when I'm not ready" she was relieved when his body went limp.
"please don't kill me, please" whimpered the 6 foot man, as the gun stared down at him, in a threatening manner.
"Sorry, I wish I didn't have to, but who else would you have killed, would you have come after my daughter? You can't even answer that really, because they 'forced' you" she mimicked his pleading tone. "hah, you deserve to die, and you should be thanking me, I could have turned you in and you would get beaten and tortured in prison, you would die eventually anyway, just saving you the pain" she said with fire in her eyes, this would bring her father and all the other people he killed justice. Well, as much justice that could be brought anyway, she could go to hell when she died for this but it would have been worth it. She looked up to the sky and whispered "Love you dad".
She roughly wiped the angry, unshed tears in her eyes and looked down to face her father's killer. "So as I was saying, I'm going to get a tattoo, so I'll be reminded of you, and when I kill all 5 of you, I'll have 5 tallies on my arm, but don't worry, because I'll always remember you, my first kill. Tell me, if I hadn't have stopped you, how many more people would you have killed, would you have killed someone else's father, would you torture them like you did mine?" There was a pregnant pause "well, don't answer that, goodbye Alexander"
He took one last glimpse of the world around him and said a silent sorry to all those who he had killed and for all the pain he had brought their loved ones.
And she pulled the trigger.
Then she got to work, she used her tweezers to remove the bullet and flipped open her pocket knife to make sure the wound wasn't recognisable, closing her eyes and trying not to breathe in the smell of Alexander's blood as she did this.
She removed her coat, which had all the blood splatter on it and walked over to the pile of firewood she had created earlier, she took out her lighter and lit up the wood, she had made sure there wasn't enough wood to start a fire that'd draw attention to her. She stripped all her clothes, pulled her bag from behind the trees, and put on new clothes, and tossed her bag, old clothes, tweezers, the bullet and everything else into the fire, once she got home she would burn her shoes too but she needed them right now.
She just stood there, staring at the man she had just killed while the fire burned out, leaving only ashes. Something was bothering her, and she didn't know what. She had gotten rid of all the forensic evidence, so, what was it? She wondered as she stood there looking at the man, the man she had just killed.