lipstick napkins
written by anticollision
this version is edited by A. E. Stover
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about: ino-centric.
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lipstick napkins
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Ino Yamanaka was never the kind of girl that you'd call an angel. Oh, maybe in looks with her long blonde hair and pretty, pretty blue eyes—but in actions? Never.
On Saturday, she woke up in a daze. She was lying next to a man she vaguely remembered from last night, and she was naked—but that was all to be expected—save for her favorite, high heels. She ignored the latter; all men had their kinky fetishes.
As she got up and began to redress, she took that time to evaluate the man she had just slept with. After deciding that she did a damn well job at choosing men, Ino grabbed her red, red lipstick and put it generously on her grinning lips.
Ah. She was ready. Now for the final touches.
Ino sauntered back over to the man on the bed and reached into her tiny handbag. The woman placed a silenced-gun to his head—his eyes opened in that moment—and pulled the trigger.
A dull echo sounded as she smirked coyly to herself. Then Ino exchanged the gun for an ivory napkin. After closing the male's eyes, she put it on his forehead and kissed the paper material. That was her calling card: lipstick napkins.
Hours later, police would find the man dead, with the serviette still on him. And Ino would be gone—in another city, another state—picking out her next victim.
No one ever found her—they never did—but still, she wondered: How far can you fly with paper wings? Fucking then killing wasn't the most common thing people did in spare time. What Ino did was unnatural, and each time she thought she'd be found out.
But she never would stop, she couldn't. After all, dying was her latest fashion. She wouldn't cease just because of a little fear.
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AUTHOR'S NOTES
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ahah, i actually liked this one. even though it's odd. ehhh, whatever. ;D AND I USED ALL THE PROMPTS. OH, YEAHH. oh, and i've never actually written ino before. ba-bam.