ᎬᎢᎬᎡᏁᎪᏞ ᎱᎪᎡᎬᏔᎬᏞᏞ

Thanks everyone
I'll save the doggy! But the Santa? Eh.

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~Terrence~

It's been nearly a year, but it still seems like just yesterday. When I opened my front door and saw the small lavender envelope on my doormat. When I ran to the clock tower and saw her lying limply on the snow, crimson blood pooling around her. When my life morphed into something dark. Twisted. And utterly, completely, evil.

If only she had known how many people adored her. They were always afraid to tell her, though, since she was always so belligerent. But her efforts to keep us out only drew us closer.

She was a love triangle waiting to happen. Before I started dating Sierra, I loved her. Everyone loved her. I could see it plainly in their faces, so I didn't think she loved me.

Her death affected everyone. I joined the gangs, fighting, killing, stealing. Sierra stayed away. Her best friend, Holly, cut her hair and dyed it. Her mother disappeared. Her little brother turned brooding and wary of everything. Her father started drinking. And the town seemed more desolate than ever before.

"Terrence. Snap out of it." Bryce claps his meaty hands in front of me. The slap reverberates around the dingy alleyway.

With a start, I hastily return to loading my sleek black handgun.

"Shh! Strength! Do you want to get us caught?" Kilian snaps in a pompous tone. "And call him Shooter. Remember to use the code names when we're inside."

"Sorry, Ki - er, Smarts." Although stronger than the rest of our gang combined, Bryce isn't very intelligent, what with his constant inability to recall the simplest of instructions.

Jaron - our Stealth - stands stock still in the shadows, slipping black leather gloves and an ebony duffel bag onto his lean, muscular frame.
Jack, the leader of the group, hands me a felt fedora with a bright, cerulean plaid design. "Wear this, Shooter. It covers your face, but is casual enough to look like part of a regular citizen's outfit."

I nod. It completes my almost Western look of tan leather boots, dark jeans, and a flannel shirt, the same design as my fedora.

"And remember. Smarts, you direct us here, from the alley, using the earpieces. You have the blueprints already. Strength, you open any door that needs opening, but don't go into the vault room. Stealth, you go with him and steal the money. Shooter, you kill anyone who sees us and everyone in the vault room. There'll probably be only two people at most in there. Any questions?"

I nod and begin to speak tentatively. No one likes to challenge Jack; he's ten times more intimidating than anyone he's ever met.

"Uh, yeah… er, Supremacy, um… what will you be doing?"

"I'll be distracting the front desk clerks and bankers. It would seem suspicious if five guys entered at the same time, all with hats that covered their face, wouldn't it? Now, are you guys ready?"

We intone the same chant we've spoken since I joined. Probably since this gang has been made.

"The Shadows of the Dead are always ready. Death waits for no one."

And with that, we disperse.

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I creep down the grey-walled hallway, my feet sliding noiselessly down the linoleum tiles. Fluorescent lights shine bright overhead.

Finally, I come to a door slightly ajar. The plaque is engraved in spidery, elegant script. Vault Room.

Cocking my gun, I peer cautiously around the corner. A banker is talking to a raven haired girl. Her back is facing me, so I can't see her face.

I lift my gun.

"As you can see, madame, no one will see you open the vault except me. Nobody is watching from the hall."

At his words, she turns around.

My grip loosens on the revolver and it clatters to the floor. Shocked, I utter the name of the one person I thought I would never see again.

"Alyssa?"

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^.^ I promise I'll have an update in time for 2013.

 

Had to rush, so it's not as good as I would like it to be.

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~Holly~

It's all his fault.

It's all his fault.

It's all his fault, it's all his fault, it's all his fault, it'sallhisfaultit'sallhisfault.

The mantra pounds over and over in my head, faster and faster, until the wooden beam in front of me is reduced to splinters.

A wavy, shoulder-length lock of hair falls into my face, damp with sweat. I angrily brush it away. It used to be long, blonde, and perfect.

But when Alyssa died, I had been overcome with anger. I was infuriated. Hacking at all my hair until the ends became choppy and uneven, I dyed it scarlet. To reflect my rage. My rage at myself, for not stopping her. My rage at her, for being so weak. But mostly, my rage at him.

She wrote me a letter explaining it all. She wrote everyone a letter. And I understood at once.

Terrence loved her. I could see it. He was just too slow, too cowardly, to act upon it.

"GAHHHH!" I screech, spinning around and kicking the next beam. It disintegrates on impact.

"Not bad, Holly."

Panting in exhaustion, I turn around. My mentor, Rin, is hanging by her knees from the rafters, a satisfied smirk on her face. Springing down, she backflips and lands neatly in front of me, easily pulling her pin-straight, almost black hair into a high ponytail. That and her slightly slanted eyes hint at her pure Asian heritage.

"Thanks," I reply, grinning.

"Keep up this pace and you'll be able to try to prove yourself to Master Kenji in no time," she continues, almost as if she hasn't heard me. "I have faith in you. You're one of my best pupils yet."

I smile weakly. Unbeknownst to her, I had managed to score one of the ten spots of the highly exclusive, secretive fighting lessons not to impress the revered Master Kenji, but because I wanted revenge. And I still do. Terrence has to pay for what he did.

"You know, you're doing better than me when I first started out. When I finally had my chance to journey to Master Kenji, it was by accident. This other girl named Rin - a much better fighter than me - was supposed to go. But they mixed up her name with mine."

I nod, listening with rapt attention. Rin rarely opens up to anyone (the only other time was when she told me about her ethnicity), which is partly why I like her. She reminds me of Alyssa.

"Master Kenji only kept me around because I exhibited such willingness to learn. And even so, he had me put as one of the lowly workers. I had to gradually work my way up, gleaning tips from offhand comments and thoughtless murmurs. Everyone treated me like ****, but I showed them. I managed to become one of his assistants. Then everything was uphill from there. I became a guard of the walls, then one of the other, smaller masters, then I was sent on quests. But apparently, I was 'too vicious' on some of my later cases. So now, I'm a teacher, training all of the new fighters."

Rin abruptly stops speaking and glances around warily. "But… don't tell anyone. We're not supposed to know much about everyone else, in the event we get kidnapped. You won't tell anyone, will you?" She looks at me, her eyes turning cold and hard.

I nod hesitantly. Suddenly, she seems very vicious indeed. "Of course not. I, uh, just have one question. Have… have you ever, er, killed anyone before?"

Rin nods. "Once. When I found out one of my students was just using my lessons for the fighting skills. She planned to rob stores using these talents, and her intentions weren't at all related to Master Kenji. I can't stand lying. Not in the slightest."

I gulp.

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Are my updates too short? Too long? A good length?

Happy New Year!