Title: Stole
Disclaimer: Nothing but Gypsy is mine. HA! Deal with it.
Genre: Humor/Angst/Romance/BLAH!
Author: Hellcat the Wicked
Summary: It's a simple tale. Boy meets girl. Girl is a thief, boy is a homicidal maniac. Girl steals his lucky blade, boy tries to kill her horribly. Where shall we go from here?
Author's Note: Done on a whim. Probably will never be finished. My first JTHM fic EVER! Enjoy, wormbabies!
Chapter One:
Hunting
Gypsy smirked and ran a hand through her short, raven hair. She adjusted her silver-rimmed glasses, and took off in a sprint, counting backward from twenty. '…19…18…17…' she thought, her black-stained lips twisting into a deeper, darker smirk. '…10…9…8…' Not much time left. She ran harder, her booted-feet pounding heavily upon the pavement. She could feel her heart bursting in her ribcage, the black and violet corset restricting her breathing to the point of excruciating pain.
BOOM!
"Well…that went smoothly." She murmured, fingering her brand new diamond necklace. An exploding building certainly got rid of any evidence that might have been used to find her. Brilliant. "I think that deserves a brain-freezy."
Johnny C. sighed and wiped clean his soiled blade. It was his favorite weapon, one with rubies on the hilt and a edge sharpened to the point of hair-splitting precision. Satan himself had given it to him. He'd just finished decapitating a particularly irksome boy, (11 or so, feeling the need to point out poor Johnny's thinness and oddly spastic eye movements) and strolled toward the nearest 24/7. A cherry brain-freezy was in order.
"What do you MEAN there's no brain-freezies ready?!" demanded the uppity, raven-haired girl. Her unreadable eyes – black as the rest of her adornments – were wide with horror and her pretty, white face constricted to the point of abhorrence. "MAKE THEM!" she screamed, shaking her fist at the greasy-looking boy behind the counter.
"I-I'm sorry, Ma'am, but we stop making the brain-freezies after midnight." Said the boy, looking terrified.
"Make. One." she snarled. The boy behind the counter nodded, a terrified expression upon his pimply face, and ran to the brain-freezy machine. Moments later, a cherry brain-freezy was in her hand. She slid the customary $1.50 toward the boy and stalked out of the 24/7, annoyed that her night had nearly been ruined due to lack of frozen beverages.
As she turned the corner, however, her evening was indeed ruined. The cherry brain-freezy, along with the person carrying it, was thrown backward and onto the filthy concrete. The red slush splattered all over whoever it was that had knocked her down, wasting a perfectly good brain-freezy in the process.
"ACK!" cried Gypsy, eyes filling with tears. "How DARE you knock me down and spill my frozen beverage!"
She was about to launch herself into ranting, raving hysteria, when she noticed that the cherry-covered person before her was looking at her with one slightly narrowed eye and one slightly bulging one. This disturbed her. She'd been to Egypt, England, Greece, and France, but she'd never seen eyes that could do that.
"You are in my way." snapped the boy. His fingers twitched, as though he intended to reach for something in the pocket of his trench coat, but for some reason he did not. "Please move."
Now, were Gypsy the type of girl who listened to the little voices in her head – the kind that tell you when danger is near – she would have known better than to do what she did next. Instead of apologizing and getting herself another freezy she leaped to her feet, tossed her hair belligerently, and flipped off the boy.
"Fuck you and your freezy-ruining ways." She said, and turned to walk off.
Johnny had been debating on the pros and cons of killing the girl before him. She was rude, yes, but she also liked cherry brain-freezies, which meant she was not all bad. He'd been leaning more toward letting her live, until, of course, she extended her middle finger in his direction; exposing perfectly-manicured, black nails. That annoyed him. The nails, that is. What kind of freak got their nails done in black? She was obviously someone with something to prove, which – of course – meant she needed to die.
Without thinking about it he grabbed her by the shoulder and threw her against the wall he'd been leaning against. Both his eyes were bulging now. He drew the blade Satan had given him, the one he'd just finished cleaning not more than twenty minutes ago, and raised it for dramatic effect. He always loved it when the victims knew what was coming, and had time to cry out for mercy.
She did not cry out for mercy.
She grabbed the thin wrist that held the knife and squeezed until he was forced to drop it. He was certain that she'd cut off the flow of blood for at least a full minute. Next she kicked him hard in the face, leaving a high-healed boot print upon his cheek. She picked up the knife, which had clattered noisily onto the pavement, right near her now empty freezy cup, and examined it.
"And here I thought the rest of the night would be dull." She said, smirking. "Thanks for the new toy."
Instinctively, Johnny leaped upon the girl, tearing at her face with his talon-like hands, but was kicked off easily. She was, for some inane reason, freakishly strong. Again he charged her, this time drawing "Old Faithful", an eight inch long, double-edged blade, but this time was slashed at. With his own knife!
"Well, not that this hasn't been interesting," she chided, eyes glinting. "but I really ought to be going."
Before he could attack her again, she threw down a smoke bomb. The flash of light and blinding, foul-smelling smoke made his eyes water, and when it cleared she was gone. Gone with his favorite knife.
"God damn it." he hissed, checking himself for wounds. Of course, he had none, despite the slashing and kicking. Yes, there had been quite a bit of kicking. "Now I have to go…" he paused, making one eye dramatically larger than the other. "hunting."
Disclaimer: Nothing but Gypsy is mine. HA! Deal with it.
Genre: Humor/Angst/Romance/BLAH!
Author: Hellcat the Wicked
Summary: It's a simple tale. Boy meets girl. Girl is a thief, boy is a homicidal maniac. Girl steals his lucky blade, boy tries to kill her horribly. Where shall we go from here?
Author's Note: Done on a whim. Probably will never be finished. My first JTHM fic EVER! Enjoy, wormbabies!
Chapter One:
Hunting
Gypsy smirked and ran a hand through her short, raven hair. She adjusted her silver-rimmed glasses, and took off in a sprint, counting backward from twenty. '…19…18…17…' she thought, her black-stained lips twisting into a deeper, darker smirk. '…10…9…8…' Not much time left. She ran harder, her booted-feet pounding heavily upon the pavement. She could feel her heart bursting in her ribcage, the black and violet corset restricting her breathing to the point of excruciating pain.
BOOM!
"Well…that went smoothly." She murmured, fingering her brand new diamond necklace. An exploding building certainly got rid of any evidence that might have been used to find her. Brilliant. "I think that deserves a brain-freezy."
Johnny C. sighed and wiped clean his soiled blade. It was his favorite weapon, one with rubies on the hilt and a edge sharpened to the point of hair-splitting precision. Satan himself had given it to him. He'd just finished decapitating a particularly irksome boy, (11 or so, feeling the need to point out poor Johnny's thinness and oddly spastic eye movements) and strolled toward the nearest 24/7. A cherry brain-freezy was in order.
"What do you MEAN there's no brain-freezies ready?!" demanded the uppity, raven-haired girl. Her unreadable eyes – black as the rest of her adornments – were wide with horror and her pretty, white face constricted to the point of abhorrence. "MAKE THEM!" she screamed, shaking her fist at the greasy-looking boy behind the counter.
"I-I'm sorry, Ma'am, but we stop making the brain-freezies after midnight." Said the boy, looking terrified.
"Make. One." she snarled. The boy behind the counter nodded, a terrified expression upon his pimply face, and ran to the brain-freezy machine. Moments later, a cherry brain-freezy was in her hand. She slid the customary $1.50 toward the boy and stalked out of the 24/7, annoyed that her night had nearly been ruined due to lack of frozen beverages.
As she turned the corner, however, her evening was indeed ruined. The cherry brain-freezy, along with the person carrying it, was thrown backward and onto the filthy concrete. The red slush splattered all over whoever it was that had knocked her down, wasting a perfectly good brain-freezy in the process.
"ACK!" cried Gypsy, eyes filling with tears. "How DARE you knock me down and spill my frozen beverage!"
She was about to launch herself into ranting, raving hysteria, when she noticed that the cherry-covered person before her was looking at her with one slightly narrowed eye and one slightly bulging one. This disturbed her. She'd been to Egypt, England, Greece, and France, but she'd never seen eyes that could do that.
"You are in my way." snapped the boy. His fingers twitched, as though he intended to reach for something in the pocket of his trench coat, but for some reason he did not. "Please move."
Now, were Gypsy the type of girl who listened to the little voices in her head – the kind that tell you when danger is near – she would have known better than to do what she did next. Instead of apologizing and getting herself another freezy she leaped to her feet, tossed her hair belligerently, and flipped off the boy.
"Fuck you and your freezy-ruining ways." She said, and turned to walk off.
Johnny had been debating on the pros and cons of killing the girl before him. She was rude, yes, but she also liked cherry brain-freezies, which meant she was not all bad. He'd been leaning more toward letting her live, until, of course, she extended her middle finger in his direction; exposing perfectly-manicured, black nails. That annoyed him. The nails, that is. What kind of freak got their nails done in black? She was obviously someone with something to prove, which – of course – meant she needed to die.
Without thinking about it he grabbed her by the shoulder and threw her against the wall he'd been leaning against. Both his eyes were bulging now. He drew the blade Satan had given him, the one he'd just finished cleaning not more than twenty minutes ago, and raised it for dramatic effect. He always loved it when the victims knew what was coming, and had time to cry out for mercy.
She did not cry out for mercy.
She grabbed the thin wrist that held the knife and squeezed until he was forced to drop it. He was certain that she'd cut off the flow of blood for at least a full minute. Next she kicked him hard in the face, leaving a high-healed boot print upon his cheek. She picked up the knife, which had clattered noisily onto the pavement, right near her now empty freezy cup, and examined it.
"And here I thought the rest of the night would be dull." She said, smirking. "Thanks for the new toy."
Instinctively, Johnny leaped upon the girl, tearing at her face with his talon-like hands, but was kicked off easily. She was, for some inane reason, freakishly strong. Again he charged her, this time drawing "Old Faithful", an eight inch long, double-edged blade, but this time was slashed at. With his own knife!
"Well, not that this hasn't been interesting," she chided, eyes glinting. "but I really ought to be going."
Before he could attack her again, she threw down a smoke bomb. The flash of light and blinding, foul-smelling smoke made his eyes water, and when it cleared she was gone. Gone with his favorite knife.
"God damn it." he hissed, checking himself for wounds. Of course, he had none, despite the slashing and kicking. Yes, there had been quite a bit of kicking. "Now I have to go…" he paused, making one eye dramatically larger than the other. "hunting."