A/N: Oh I feel I should apologize for this extremely random story. I had finished it back in October of 2007. It was a conceptual idea at best. A time of strong emotion...I guess. LOL But here is the darkside to the end of Battered.
I apologize again for updating the stories like these. I'm currently working on the lastest chapter of Racer.
Ghosts and Sins
They say that the remaining people who were tied to the First District went into hiding. Anyone who aided them suddenly disappeared along with their family. These people were later found dismember in front of the hiding places of the remaining First District members. It was the one thing these people could not escape or so they thought after months of no sighting of their primary two targets.
It was the raid that they last performed that faithful day that the motorcycle came soaring through the parking lot disregarding the flying bullets. The day they had surely thought after twenty-five agents went in only four survived, but later died from their injuries.
The specters with icy green and bloody orbs hunt like vampires in the night. Their empty forms stalk the shadows as they patiently await their next victim; one taking more pleasure in the next killing after the next.
The apartment was said to have two pooled areas of blood on the ground right next to each other. The blood types were discovered to be A and AB. The amount of blood that was there suggests the two should have died. So the fear has set in for the very small amount of agents. These ghosts of princesses await there long slumber. Their poisoned souls do not destroy their hearts as they endlessly roam. Only their voices heard in the night speaking madly.
"These sins I commit I cannot regret..."
"Yes these sins we commit are without regret and the one sin I will never regret is loving you...always..."
These are the dying words of agents who were made to watch their families be murdered before their eyes. Never once did the specters touch the main victim but left them to finish themselves off. They say in their last choking words that these are the thing they say after they get done after they get done slowly ripping through the throats of the innocent family members.
Though they appear heartless the damage is done. Each death they die more as the innocent blood bathes their skin as their hands are ever reminded of the softness of the skin of their younger victims. Their sanity is only so strong but ever losing for their need to punish those who have killed so many of the thirteen. The remaining six are scattered except the two that could be dead.
The battered ghosts haunted with the task of sin.