A/N: Okay so this is a one- shot that is slightly gory and has a very OC Megamind. Hope you like!
CIAO CIOA ALL!
I stand here, before the girl of my dreams. She lies motionless on the ground. Her face looks so peaceful, yet her body language begs to differ. She looks as though she might've struggled due to the dirt covering her clothes, but she would've died whether she did or not. The wind wisps by, gently blowing the loose strands of her hair away from her eyes and out of her face. To think that I know the person who did this, but I'm okay with it.
Her eyes are open, showing those once bright and vigilant blue eyes. Now, they were dull and clouded over, staring into an eternity that is not visible. Those very eyes used to be the ones I would lose myself in, now they mean nothing to me. There was a tear that gently flowed down her face, only to be dried up by the wind like the soul she once had. To think that I know the person who did this, but I'm okay with it.
I crouch down in front of her unseeing face and slowly take one of my favorite black leather gloves off, pinching at each finger tip in order to get the skin tight material off. When my blue hand was free, I cautiously shut her eyes with two fingers. No point in leaving them open if she cannot experience the world any longer. I look at her face for a moment, taking in the beauty and the fact that there was blood trickling out of her mouth. To think that I know the person who did this, but I'm okay with it.
I then move my hands towards a sharp object jutting out of her chest. It was a long knife and it was struck right through the heart, if not the left lung. I slowly, but not carefully, pull it out, knowing full well who it belonged to. To think that I know the person who did this, but I'm okay with it.
At first, I hold the blade at a distance to observe it, incidentally letting the dark velvety liquid called blood slide down only to fall back on the body. With a dark expression plastered on my face, I put the blade in it's holster on my utility belt. I didn't cry for Roxanne Ritchi. I didn't feel sorry for her either. No, I don't feel any remorse for what has happened to her because I know for a fact who did this.
I stand back up and glare down at her. I don't bother to clean up the mess, and instead I make it worse by writing my name in her blood. As I leave, I let loose an evil cackle, for the deed was done. Yes, I know who did this, and I'm glad to say that I am definitely okay with it.