Prologue

"Let's go Sakura." Sakura's scowl deepened behind her silky curls as Tomoyo placed a gentle yet firm hand on her best friend's shoulder. "He's had enough."

"Are you kidding me? Five more minutes." Sakura couldn't tear her eyes off of the limp man pinned beneath her. He had stopped struggling a while ago. "He can't get away with just a few scrapes. He needs to know what he's done."

"A few scrapes? He's a bloody mess! If you don't leave him as he is now, his own mother won't be able to identify him, let alone the cops. Then what would be the whole point? I want justice just as much as you do. Now come on." The girls looked up Tomoyo's cell began to ring. "Nakuru's called the cops. Let's go girls." Before she stood, Sakura untied the black ribbon from her pale neck and fixed it tightly around the blood streaked neck below her.

Sakura gave the man one last swift kick as she got up from her straddling position. She bent down so that she stared directly into his bloody eyes. Chuckling, she knew that her point had come across as his eyes became even wider and his breathing quickened, his broken ribs probably poking around uncomfortably. He would never EVER again even think of touching anybody. That is, if he didn't get the death penalty for what he had done.

The three girls strolled calmly and quickly out of the abandoned warehouse unfazed by what they had just done. Leaves crunching underfoot, they headed towards their hideout, picking up their backpacks on the way. As they walked, they slid off their gloves, hairnets, black masquerade masks, and tight black under armor and stuffed them into Ziploc bags, which were then stuffed into their packs. From them they each pulled out a cute little jacket to shield them from the cold.

"I hate wearing all this crap! Why do we have to wear it all again?" Meiling complained as she fiddled with her unwieldy weights strapped to her chest and her combat boots that were four sizes too big and stuffed with cotton.

"You don't want those dumb cops to find out that we're average teenage girls do you? I'm serious. They can find out who we are just by looking at our footprints. When they look at your footprint Meiling," Sakura pointed at the dirt at one of Meiling's footprints, "they'll see a 190 pound male with size 9 feet. Haven't we already gone over this?"

"I know, I know, they just get me so tired. I don't know how in the world we would survive if we had to run out of here. These clunky things would slow me down." Meiling stomped her feet into the ground, making deep impressions and hollow thumping sounds, echoing through the forest like heartbeats.

Tomoyo jogged ahead and beckoned them to move faster. "Hurry up guys! I see Nakuru's car and the sirens are getting closer. We need to get home before the sun sets. My mom is going to kill me if I'm late for dinner."

Sakura tilted her head towards the heavy gray blanket above as the girls ran towards the backroad, just beyond the thinning trees. Like her heart, the sky seemed to be sinking from the weight of the clouds, distorting what was once bright.

Nakuru squealed a whimsical, "Hey girlies!" as they hopped in her car. She pushed her large black sunglasses from her thick brown hair down onto her nose. Flooring it, she looked back and said, "Try not to get dirt on the floor loves!"

The police officers stood outside the warehouse as the SWAT team searched inside.

"I can't believe it. Do you really think the tip was right?"

"After six months, this had better be the guy." Officer Monroe snapped his head towards the decrepit building as the leader of the team trotted over to him.

"Sir, we found him, but he's in critical condition. He had this wrapped around his neck." The SWAT leader pulled out a plastic bag and handed it to Officer Monroe, who furrowed his eyebrows and cursed under his breath.

"What is it Sir?" The second police officer looked over and squinted at the bag, trying to figure out what was in it. "A black ribbon? What the hell does that mean?"

"Well for one thing, it means we've definitely got the right man."

Like a lone star shining from behind a thick layer of clouds on a cloudy night, a young man sat beneath his covers, holding a flashlight towards his novel. Weary amber eyes gazed down upon the pages, lips rarely used curved into a small smile.

Only the soft sound of his breathing could be heard through the stillness of the night. Beyond his darkened room lay a world full of people sleeping soundly in their beds; a sleep he never had, nor will ever have.

'I should have done this more often.' The thought lazed across his brain. 'Too bad this is it.'

In this state he stayed in all night, his silent regrets and seething angers beginning to dissipate, leaving him only with a light kind of peace. He was ready for his last day.