Warning: I did not write this. My friend did. If you guys like it, he'll keep writing. If not……Then IDK. Anyway….On with the story.
Drako
I waited in the dark, gloomy shadows of an alley in New York City. It was 1900; a year after the damn newsies had their 'great strike'. They thought they were on top of everything. I was here to prove them wrong.
Looking out into the lit part of the alley, I saw him: a newsie walking toward me. I watched him pass me, and I waited to give him a lead. Once he got far enough ahead, I started after him. Quickly I clamped my hand over his mouth, raised the switchblade over my head, and plunged it into his heart.
Yes, I am Drako. The murdering, sinister, killer of newsies: is me. I felt him go limp in my arms, I moved my arms, and watched the body fall to the ground. His eyes were open, staring blankly into the night sky. Grabbing part of his shirt I wiped the blood off my switchblade. Glimpsing around, I saw no one. I backed into the shadows and ran off, in search of more newsies to kill.
So far it had been a slow day, not many newsies about the city. They're probably too busy selling their damn "papes". The one time of day I hated, the only time I couldn't kill them. If I found one alone, I'd have to wait until he left the open streets.