Changes
Things change. Pure and simple.
Disclaimer: The author doesn't own Xiaolin Showdown
Note: this is my very first Fan fiction so please read and enjoy
He could hear his heart beat violently in his chest as he ran along the small, twisting path through the jungle. Was this beat from exhaustion? No, it was from excitement as he came closer to his destination.
As he entered a clearing, he stopped momentarily to gaze at the night sky. The only source of light came from the large, full moon that sat, almost as if misplaced, among the clouds that surrounded it.
He felt his grin grow on his face. It was too perfect that the moon was lighting up the entire area. He almost had a sense that the moon itself agreed with his plans and had did it only to make his quest easier.
He once again took off running down the moonlit trail as his anticipation almost became unbearable.
He continued running.
Was he being too cruel, too heartless? No, not a chance, it had to be done. After all the humiliation, the mistakes, the defiance. After all HE had done. No, in his own mind it wasn't cruel and if anything it was kind of him to kill him. Would he be dead instantly without any pain? No, the killing was meant to be dragged out and as for the pain ….well….. he wanted to see him suffer.
He had continued running through the jingle until he came to a large stone wall that surrounded the building his pray was in. This pray was probably sleeping right now, it being about midnight, and wouldn't have the slightest idea of what was about to happen to him.
He climbed the wall with ease and jumped down to the other side once he reached the top.
Now on the other side, he stood up and pulled a knife from his belt. He stared at it as it gleamed in the moonlight. A simple knife he found in the kitchen with a blade of stainless steel and a black handle. He had placed in his belt before he started his journey.
True, he could have taken any one of the effective weapons in his possession or even just relied on his own skills, however, he couldn't explain exactly why, but just using a simple knife, it….it…..it just felt right.
He would be sure to drain every bit of life out of his body as would the knife take every ounce of blood from his veins. This weapon would ensure he didn't die instantly but wouldn't live long enough to try to escape, either. Yes, it was the perfect weapon to kill him with.
He proceeded to walk around the perimeter of the house in order to look for any open windows. Through a window, he figured, would be the best way to enter the house unnoticed.
As luck would have it, he found one. A small rectangular window to the basement, the same place his victim would be found in, too. He smiled, this was too perfect.
He crept in through the window and looked around. The only light came from a few beams of moonlight coming in through the windows and a single lamp left on a desk at which his victim slept
He griped his knife firmly and held his breath.
"This will stop," he muttered "I can't allow him to do this to us."
He proceeded to calmly walk over to the desk. He didn't make any attempt at all to hid himself as he was sure that there was no way for anything to stop him now.
His eyes were fixed the whole time in the sleeping boy. He stopped next to the desk, finally within perfect range of his victim.
He lifted his knife and paused for a moment to try and stop his hand from trembling. Was he nervous now? No, a growing flame of excitement still engulfed his body causing his hands to tremble.
He swung his knife down and ended up missing his mark. Instead of completely stabbing his right arm he had made a deep cut in the skin while the rest of the knife was now lodged in the wooden desk.
His victim was also awake now and he jumped up from his seat almost knocking the entire desk over.
The two boys stood at opposite ends of the desk. The one with the wound looked into the face of his attacker and felt terror and fear rise in him. He knew very well that he couldn't fight him and hope to win, so he did the next best thing, he turned around and ran.
The other only smiled and ripped his knife out of the wood. He followed in pursuit and angrily grabbed his arm, causing even more blood to spill from it. He through him to the ground and jumped on top of him to prevent any further escape attempts.
"Raimundo, no, I swear to God, it's not my fault!" he screamed. He finally found the power to say something lying on his back in the in the dark room.
He couldn't help but stare into the cold emerald eyes as he relied, "Shut up, Spicer! I don't want to hear it. You knew this would happen sooner or later."
Raimundo just lifted the knife above his head getting ready to thrust it down in a final blown into Jack's chest.