Author's Note: Let's see... I feel like writing something scary because I've just played a bunch of creepy games... :) and, yeah, it's short, but i wanted it to be.

I don't own Durarara!

Warning: Blood and gore... and adult things in later chapters.

Enjoy

Everyone has a history, a family, friends, and a story. To end it all and feel nothing is deemed impossible by most, too. Taking a look into the bio of a serial killer will tell you that those type of people aren't exactly sane. It's basic human emotional that stops some beings from ending one another. Morals, consequences, or fear kick in for a majority of us. It's strange, though, how in an instant, someone's life could just... end.

Shizuo looks at his blood stained hands and back at the scene before him. Blood was splattered all around him and his clothes were beyond help. He looked to the mangled body before him and felt numb.

Izaya Orihara had a stop sign running through his chest that also ripped more skin and bone towards his throat. When the blond examined it further, he could see his ribcage curling in and puncturing flesh. He looked away, afraid he might throw up. His head was lifelessly hung to the side with wide eyes and an open mouth, stained with the enormous amount of blood that the flea had coughed up before his quick death. This was something shinra couldn't fix.

The events replayed in his head over and over. Him running after the smaller man. Him grabbing the sign. him throwing the sign, pole first. It would have missed him if Izaya's feet hadn't tripped, keeping him there. It went straight through.

"F-Finally did it... ne? Heh, monster." Izaya's words were gurgled and soon after, he spilled what seemed like a gallon of blood from his mouth and the life from those red eyes was gone. The bigger man grabbed the black jacket with his hands and shook him, terrified that this were actually happening; that he killed a man. He looked at the blood that had got on his hands and dropped the body on the cement with a loud THUD.

Well, yeah, he always said he would kill the louse, but did he ever think he would actually do it? He can't live with that on his hands. But here he was, standing over the gruesomely ruined body that he had caused. He needed to think. Think fast because there were still people and there was way too much blood and... think, damn it!

Shizuo clumsily grabbed his cell phone from his pocket and dialed a familiar number, grimacing as blood smeared across the buttons. "Sh-Shinra."

"Yes, Shizuo? Is everything alright?"

"Come down to - street behind the big blue building... in a small concrete space."

"What's-"

"Now."

"...Alright."

"A-And.. bring a... body bag."

"..Okay."

He could hear how bad his voice shook and did whatever it took to keep his eyes off the non moving form of Izaya Orihara.

But the smell couldn't be avoided.

"Some people would have... I mean I never... shit, Shizuo." Shinra took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes, obviously torn up about Izaya's death. "H-How? Just... why?" They both sat on his couch and the doctor refused to look at him.

"I.. didn't mean to. Believe it or not." The bodyguard said slowly. "He, " He took a deep breath to steady his breath, " was running. It wasn't supposed to h-hit.. him." Shizuo was silently crying by then. He wiped at his eyes and hung his hands between his knees as he sat hunched over.

"I'll cover it. Don't worry." Shinra was trying to keep his voice steady. "They all see me as a reliable doctor.. they'll believe me."

Life would be quieter. He would work, come home, maybe walk around the town and not worry about the flea. No, he had no more worries.

Because he's dead.

The coffee mug in his hand cracked and leaked coffee onto his white countertop. He hadn't even moved after making it. He sat there in a daze like he had always been recently. The the man didn't eat much anymore.

Perhaps he was still in denial. He wasn't used to the idea of being left alone which is strange because he had been isolated most of his life because of his strength and the fear it caused people. It was like he was an alien or a monster, which was the most common name they would call him. Being left alone for years with only his brother and occasionally his parents, he should be used to this. It wasn't like the annoying pest came around every day, or came barging into his house causing trouble.

He should act normal. Tom would ask why he was staring off or 'have you lost weight? You don't look like you slept well.'

He can't sleep anymore.

The mug was nothing more than shards of porcelain in a river of dark liquid on the off-white counter.

"Something bothering you... Shizu-chan?"

Hope you like this chapter :)

I haven't written in a serious tone for a looong tim, it's nice.

Review anything you find wrong or any corrections if you want

Compliments are also welcome^^

Chu Chu

-Nica