This is my new story.

It's going to be a little different than what i normally write. The POV's may change but i'm not sure.

Just give this a chance. I think you will end up liking it.

Disclaimer: I borrow a few characters....okay, all the characters.

Chapter 1

"Axel, we're worried about you," my Dad says looking at me seriously.

I came home to find my parents sitting in the living room. They said they wanted to have a "talk" with me. I don't want to have this talk with them. I want to go up to my room away from my parents. Talks are never good.

"Your mother and I have been noticing your strange behavior recently. We just want to know what's going on with you," says my Dad trying to look me in the eye. I look down at the ground to avoid his gaze. I haven't been able to look him in the eyes for a long time now.

"What do you mean? I'm fine," I lie. I can't help but keep up the charade for them. It's the only way I know how to act around them now.

"We know you haven't gotten over the loss-."

"Please, can we not…talk about that," I cut my Dad off mid-sentence. I don't want to think about that. I sure as hell don't want to talk about it.

I can't handle talking to my parents anymore. It just depresses me to look at their concerned faces. I try to act normal around them, but I guess I need to try a little harder.

"You haven't been yourself lately. Your moody, you never go out with friends anymore, you've lost a lot of weight, and your grades are terrible. What's been going on with you?" asks my Dad. My Mom is sitting rigidly in her chair avoiding looking at me. I don't blame her.

"I don't know," I say fidgeting in my chair.

"Is there a problem at school, honey?" my Mom speaks for the first time in this conversation.

I shake my head no, "I've just…been really tired lately, I think I have mono. Demyx had it last month."

"Really? I guess that would make sense. I'll schedule an appointment with the doctor tomorrow and see if that's the case," says my Mom smiling a relieved smile. She looks much happier with an explanation for my behavior.

All they need is an explanation to drop the subject.

I can play my parents like a piano.

"Can I go now? I have homework," I ask impatiently. I know I don't have mono, and Demyx never had mono either. I don't even have homework. The lies flow from my mouth without an ounce of regret.

"Sure, son," says my dad getting up and clasping a hand on my shoulder. I smile at him like I'm happy he's touching me even though my shoulder is itching for him to let go. I get up from my chair and walk up the stairs to my room quickly. I don't think I could've lasted another second in that room with them.

My room is a charade, like the rest of my life.

Posters of bands and movies plaster the walls. My bed is neatly made with a black bedspread. A dresser with a TV on top of it is pushed up to the wall at the end of my bed. Clothes spill out of my closet haphazardly. A messy desk is placed next to the window. Fading light from the sunlight streams in through the window.

It looks like any normal teenage guy's room.

I'm anything but normal and I'm the only person alive that knows it.

I sit down at my desk sighing deeply. I pull open a drawer and dig under a mound of papers for what I want. It's one of my most cherished possessions. I place it on top of the desk and run my fingers over it to feel the smoothness. Thinking about it…

I can't.

But I want to.

I just did last weekend.

But I want to.

What if I get caught?

I want to.

I sigh again and place my most prized possession back under the papers in the drawer. I open up another drawer and pull out the box containing my second most prized possessions. I pull out the object I need. I look at my green eyes in the reflection of the item before grabbing my favorite black coat and sticking it in the inside pocket. I shove a hat on my head.

I bounce down the stairs quickly, feeling determined.

"I'm going out," I call to whoever is in the kitchen.

"Okay, don't come back too late," my mom calls back to me.

I step out of the front door into the streets of Hallow Bastion. The smell of the streets hits my senses immediately. It's one of those indescribable smells that make me happy for some reason. Probably some sort of sensory smell from when I was little. I walk down the sidewalk feeling excitement buzzing through my body.

I walk a few blocks away from my house to the poorer district of Hallow Bastion. This is where I need to be to find what I need to find.

I shift my gaze to my side to look at the people I pass.

I see scantily clad whores watching me seductively. I see drug addicts sitting in filth shaking from withdrawals or cackling like madmen. I see business men here to meet the whores. I see raggedy looking kids walking home from playing outside. I see gangs standing in huddles conspiracing.

I ignore them.

They aren't what I'm looking for.

My eyes rest on a man walking on the other side of the street. He's built muscular. A hat is pulled down to hide most of his face and dark hair. He's walking behind a girl around my age. He's trying to be discreet about following her, but I know what he's planning.

I know.

He's a predator stalking prey.

The girl stops. She's nervously waiting to cross the street. The man is creeping closer to her. He grabs onto her arm and leans down to whisper something into her ear. The girl freezes in fear. The man pulls her back away from the street into a side alley. The girl starts to fight him at the entrance of the alley.

She knows now.

I walk across the street determined. My senses are sharpening. Adrenaline is pulsing through my body. My stomach is flipping with anticipation.

I reach the mouth of the alley. The girl is fighting the man desperately. He's obviously stronger than her. His hand is pressed firmly over her mouth so she can't scream. She scratches at his face. He rips her shirt savagely. She tries to kick him in the groin but he shoves her against the wall.

Not anger, but something very close to it burns in my chest.

It is as simple as predator stalking prey.

I walk closer to the man and the girl. The burning in my chest grows as I get closer. I don't let it show on my face. I keep myself calm and composed.

The man notices my presence when I'm only a few feet away. His eyes widen and he freezes. His face shows the desperation of someone knowing they are caught. The girl is crying. I don't know if it's from joy of rescue or fear of rape.

"Having fun?" I ask coolly.

The man glares at me with hatred, "Go away punk."

I walk closer to him while reaching in my pocket. I feel the hilt of the knife I put in my pocket earlier. My hand feels electrified.

"No. I don't really feel like it," I reply menacingly.

The man reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small handgun. He pushes it to the side of the girls's head who is sobbing uncontrollably, "How about now? Do you feel like leaving now, punk?!"

His voice has a high pitched panicked tone. He's a coward. Only cowards use guns. They don't want to feel the full extent of taking a human life. I have no respect for this man.

In one swift motion I pull the knife out of my pocket and lurch forward grabbing the man's gun hand. He drops the gun and loses his grip on the girl. I shove him backwards into the wall wrapping a hand around his throat. His eyes stare at me wide and shocked trying to figure out what went wrong.

The girl stumbles away from us sobbing.

"Thank you! Thank you! Oh god….," she sobs pulling her shirt to cover her.

"Go home," I order her calmly.

"I-I can't just leave you here. Should I call the police?" she half yells hysterically.

"Just go home and forget about it," I reply sternly.

"But you-"

"Go home!" I yell loudly tightening my grip on the man's neck.

She backs out of the alley tripping over her own feet. I don't feel bad for yelling at her. I did her a favor. She doesn't want to see this.

I turn my attention back to the man. He's tugging at my hand gasping for air. I hold the knife in front of his face trying to decide where to start.

"Please….please," he chokes out.

I glare into his frightened brown eyes, "You should have thought about that before."

I lower the knife to his torso, just below his ribcage. I push the point into his torso slowly. Blood start to leak onto my hand. The man writhes in pain. He tries to scream but my grip on his throat makes it sound like a muffled gurgle.

I plunge the knife in deeper, tearing through the muscle. Blood leaks out of the man's mouth. I can feel the knife ripping and cutting through his body. The human body is so fragile. One small cut can rip you apart. I can feel the man's wet slippery organs. Blood is pouring out of him in torrents. I can feel the hard edge of his ribcage.

Bones are actually very white.

I pull the knife out of him swiftly. His eyes roll into the back of his head. I keep him from collapsing on the ground. I'm not done with him yet.

I drop my knife on the ground and reach my hand into the man's torso. I start to grab onto anything I can. I rip and twist his organs out of him. He convulses and gasps for air like a fish. But he soon becomes limp in my arms. The organs trail out of the hole to the round. I keep pulling out everything I can until I don't feel anything else to pull out. The man is nothing but an empty shell now. His body reflects his soul. He is nothing but a fucking empty shell!

I let go of the man breathing heavily. I feel good. I feel damn good!

Carnage covers the alley. I push aside some to find my knife. I can't leave it.

I take one last look at the body of the man before turning away and walking out of the alley. I can hear sirens blaring in the distance. That girl must have called the police.

I curse under my breath when I notice that the front of my jacket is stained with blood. I rip it off hastily. The sirens are getting closer. I run down the street to the next block. My hands are covered in blood.

I don't know if the police have found the body or not, but I need to get as far away as possible from the alley. The police won't look long, but they will still look. There are hundreds of murders in this city a year, most of them gang violence. And not enough police to find the murderers. I'll be fine as long as I fly under the radar and get rid of this bloody jacket.

Eluding capture is just a bonus of the fun.

I detour into another empty alley. There's a dumpster pushed up against the wall. I find a coffee maker cardboard box on top of the pile of trash. I quickly stuff my jacket in the box and bury it under the other garbage. The police aren't thorough enough to even look in this dumpster.

There's a water spigot sticking out of the opposite wall. I turn the tap, cold water pours out onto the dirty alley floor. I quickly clean my hands of the blood making sure to get every stain.

I walk back out onto the sidewalk still feeling adrenaline pounding in my veins. The police sirens are still blaring. I walk past the hookers and druggies careful not to seem suspicious. Even though the police won't believe a word they say.

I pull my phone out and check the time. It's 1:24 a.m. Dammit, I can't go home. My parents are probably already in bed and they also probably turned on the alarm system.

I dial Demyx's number quickly.

Come on, pick up! Come on Dem, come through for me this one time! Pick up the phone!

"Hello," Demyx's groggy voice comes through the phone on the fifth ring.

"Hey Dem, what are you doing?" I say keeping my voice as normal as possible.

"Sleeping," he replies faintly.

I see a cop car cruising slowly down the street out of the corner of my eye. My heart starts to beat rapidly.

Go away cop! Drive on by! Stop going so slow! Nothing to see here!

"Well wake up! I need you to pick me up!" I say quickly. I can see the cop eyeing me from the car.

"Aw man, are you serious?" whines Demyx.

It's taking all my self control not to start screaming at him, "Just get in your fucking car, drive to Market Street, and pick me up. Please Dem, you owe me!"

"Owe you for what?" groans Demyx.

"Remember the time your pants ripped at school and I let you borrow my gym sweat pants? Well, get your ass down here and pick me up!" I say thinking quickly. The cop car is coming closer to me. The cop is still staring at me.

"Dude it's freaking late. What are you doing on Market Street? What's going on?" asks Demyx starting to catch on that something is up.

"Please, just pick me up," I groan starting to feel frustrated with him. He's my best friend…but he can be an idiot sometimes.

The cop car pulls to the side of the road right next to me and the cop rolls down his window. I want to run, but that would make me seem guilty.

He just wants to talk. He just wants to talk. He just wants to talk!

"Just tell me what's going on dude!" says Demyx.

"I'll tell you when you pick me up. I have to go, see you soon," I say flipping my phone closed. I start to sweat as I walk over to the side of the cop car. My stomach is doing flips from anxiety, but I don't let any of that show on my face.

"Hey kid, what are you doing out this late?" asks the cop. Most of his face is hidden by sunglasses, but I can see that he has blonde spiky hair. He's a young cop. He only looks to be around twenty-five or so.

"Just walking," I reply monotone.

"It's dangerous to be on the streets at this hour," says the cop searching my face.

I keep my face completely neutral, "Yeah, what's with all the sirens?"

"There was a murder about a block away. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?" asks the cop suspiciously.

"Oh my god, seriously? Who was murdered?" I ask making my voice and face seem shocked.

"We haven't identified the body yet. I suggest you go home, kid. Do you need a ride?"

Cops are so easy to fool. I should be a professional actor.

"Oh no, I'm fine. My friend is picking me up. Good luck with finding whoever did it," I say backing away from the car.

"Be on your guard," replies the cop rolling up his window and pulling away.

I can't help but smile when he's out of sight.

My phone starts to ring, Demyx flashes across the screen. I flip it open, "Are you coming?"

"I'm already here. Where are you? This place is crawling with fucking cops," says Demyx nervously.

I look around for a landmark, "I'm next to Hippy Bob's Smoke Shop."

"Oh I see you," Demyx replies hanging up on me.

Demyx pulls up next to me in his silver Honda Civic. I open the passenger door quickly and jump in. Demyx looks half asleep. He's still wearing his pajamas. His hair is an absolute mess and his eyelids are drooping from exhaustion. He looks at me angrily.

"What the hell, dude?" he says shaking his head.

"I got locked out of my house and went for a walk. Lighten up, Dem," I say smiling.

"Cops! Everywhere!" he yells as another cop car cruises past us.

"There's probably some drug bust going on. Just get out of here," I say tiredly. Demyx doesn't know anything about what I do and I have no intention of telling him about it. We are practically brothers, but some stuff needs to be kept a secret. For his own good.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it is to walk around at night!? On a school night!" he yells at me.

I hold back a smile. He doesn't need to be worried about me.

"You sound like my mother," I say rolling my eyes.

Demyx glares at me, "Shut up. I just don't want anything to happen to you."

"Whatever mom," I tease.

"Fucking smart aleck," mutters Demyx gripping the steering wheel and glaring at the road.

I smile and lean back in my chair.

I know I should feel bad for killing that man. But he deserved it. I know I should be ashamed that I lie to all my friends and family and even that cop, but I'm not. I can't help it. I don't feel sorry. I'm going to continue to kill no matter what. So why not kill bad people?

It's making the world a better place. I'm ridding the streets of dirtbags.

And no one would ever suspect me. I'm just a 17 year old guy that goes to school ,hangs with friends,....

...and sometimes kills people.

Just to clear something up.

Axel is not a vampire.

The cop was not Roxas.

And Hippie Bob's Smoke Shop is a place that actually exists.

What did you think? Eh?

Press the Review button!!!

=)