CHAPTER 3 - "KILL"
Someone says that everything has a reason, everything happens because of our actions, our possibilities, our failures and successes, B.B. didn't care about these things and took the sword that was at her right. With the weapon pushed out the old man and got up. Now that bastard would have had what he deserved.
The girl extracted the sword from the sheath and, as if time stopped for a few minutes, she admired that beautiful object. Hilt in gummed wood with reliefs in Japanese writing, sharp blade in pure steel, so sharp to be able to cut in two a backbone as it was a knife with the fused butter. Lightweight, strange for a so long sword, it must have been at least 1 meter long. B.B. grasped the weapon with both hands and she began to form circles oscillating the katana, the man looked at her with a mixture of admiration and fear. The last thing that he would have seen.
Without any delay the girl trespassed him with the sword. The man made a horrifying scream of pain, then he said "Un bel morir, tutta la vita onora , a beautiful death honors the whole life". Then he fell on the ground.
B.B. was almost completely covered with red blood but she didn't have time to clean herself because three other people entered the room. The first one, a pretty good looking woman with long curly hair and dressed like she was into a late eighteen century portrait, held a series of little knifes, not big, but they looked painful if stabbed into a body. The second person was a bald, old and very short man holding a scalpel. He dressed a white uniform. The last man was very tall and held a long sword with a cross engraved on the blade.
"Kill" Said the three people together.
The two men went under the big lamp and approached B.B. with a series of slashes, the girl acted like she had always used a sword and blocked or dodged every slash, then she had an idea. The lamp was supported by a fragile rope, therefore she decided to cut it trying to launch the sword, the result would have been two bodies smashed under a heap of broken glasses and iron pieces with probable spillage of bones and plentiful fountains of blood. The spectacle wasn't so lame as she expected.
She kicked the two men in order to make their presence in perfect vertical correspondence with the lamp launched the sword with a perfect angle and cut the rope, the rest was just too bloody to be described, you know only that there was not an angle of the room in which an alone drop of blood was not present. Problem solved? No!
B.B. forgot of the woman, that inserted her a knife in the back. The little girl screamed of pain and laid on the ground, the woman stabbed her repetitively with the knives. But it wasn't over.
B.B. with all her strength took a small piece of glass and trespassed the throat of the woman.
The girl was already reliving her past memories: her mother's arrival, a happy life between samurai swords and days of sun with Beatrix. She implored a rapid death or a miraculous arrival of police and ambulances, but none of the two things arrived, she heard in a confused way only a number:
88.