I finally got this thing done. I've only been wanting to do it for years, but...hey. There's nothing like boredom to motivate you, huh?

And, to explain the title--death is a universal truth, but the vast majority of my characters have slipped through the cracks so...yeah. I'm done explaining 'cause it doesn't work well. Besides, I'm watching boy-Shakira and...I can't think properly.

Ending is a bit shaky so I'll probably go back and work on it some...but that's for a later date. One where I'm not distracted by undulating rolls of fat.

--

It was raining. Granted, that was a common occurrence in Seattle, but this time it served only to make the teen's foul mood even worse. That was almost the last thing she wanted, as anger typically resulted in headaches and the desire to smash things in that would best remain intact. In this case, the thing was probably James's face, and it was getting harder and harder to stave that urge off.

The thought made Alex pause as she pulled the second glove on. She graduated in less than a month, and would be leaving just days afterwards for college. It could be a goodbye present--a broken nose, that is. The man's blood on her hands, his pain the result of nearly three years of arguments and hatred.

It didn't have to stop at a broken nose. James deserved more. So much more. Hurting him would be incredibly easy, and yet...

"Jail wouldn't suit you," the teen muttered to herself as she tugged the motorcycle helmet on. Driving in the rain would be horrible, especially at night, but she had to get away for a little while. A couple of hours at most. Her stepfather was being a dick again; wandering aloud why he hadn't shipped Alex off to her relatives, joking about her leaving for good, voicing his surprise that she hadn't been expelled...things like that. Some of it was probably meant to be taken with humour, but she had none where he was concerned.

Their last fight had been focused on Alex's response to the living with family thing. She would have preferred that, and it would be nice to know something about her father's half of the family since she had never met him. She'd never even seen pictures. It was all highly suspicious, though the teen believed what her mother had said. There was no reason to think otherwise. Eryn was always honest...

Always? That couldn't be possible. Humans lied all the time. It was in their nature. What if Eryn had been lying? She could be the product of a random fling, a one time-deal. Or--

Alex realized that her knuckles were probably bleeding after punching the support beam to the carport like that. Similar things had been plaguing her for days now. Thoughts that couldn't be her own. She got into her fair share of fights, but really hurting people? Jerking their world out from underneath their feet for personal pleasure?

The scary thing was that the ideas were so incredibly tempting. Alex had heard stories of people who snapped out of the blue. People who went postal. Bonkers. Totally crazy. And for no reason whatsoever. Only...she would have an excuse, Right? Father dead, mother dead, raised to be part of a culture that didn't exist on her side of the globe...there was so much that could be blamed.

But she wasn't crazy. She couldn't be. Maybe a little sadistic, but that was something else entirely.

...Right?

An asylum would kill her. Being locked up, incapable of exerting power over others...James would commit her in a heartbeat if they had a good enough reason to do so.

Wait. How did she get on the highway? Why didn't she remember starting the friggin' motorcycle? ...Okay, not that crazy. Just prone to random blackouts in memory. When...driving angry in the rain at night. Alex smiled grimly; it was a challenge. She enjoyed challenges like that.

She leaned forward the tiniest bit, watching and listening to the rain splattering against her helmet. Almost unconsciously, the teen sped up. It felt as if she was going too slow, though the speedometer was slowly inching past fifty. Her mother would probably frown upon the behaviour, but she wouldn't say anything. It had never been her style. Alex knew what the consequences were, after all, and if she wished to endure them for a bit of fun, then so be it.

James had been so confused by that when he first saw it in action. The man failed to understand how a method without actual discipline could result in such a well-behaved child (for Eryn, anyway). The explanation was quite simple in reality--Alex disliked being a disappointment. She performed at her best in the things that mattered, and on the rare occasion that she slipped up, it was pretty much guaranteed never to happen again in that particular subject.

Nowadays, however, she didn't have a lot of motivation to do her best. She hardly respected James--though attempts had been made when they first met--and his methods of punishment were infuriating. Taking her stuff away was ineffective at best, and she reacted violently to being yelled at. There wasn't anyone to make proud...

Then again, why work so hard so someone else could bask in what should be personal triumph? Her glory belonged to no one else, and it was so nice to have the ability to gloat over others. Besides, it wouldn't be her fault that they were so obviously inferior.

The motorcycle jerked suddenly as it hit a puddle at high speeds, and it was only because of a quick reaction that Alex was spared from being plastered on the divider. With her heart pounding in her ears, the teen slowed down drastically. The night was proving to be far too exciting for her tastes, but there was no way to turn around for quite a few miles. Peachy.

Oh, how nice it would be to curl up in bed, away from the cold. Sleep might even bring relief from those weird thoughts. It would only be a little while longer, and then she could slam the door at home and stomp up the stairs while James told her not to do those things.

The idea was nice in theory, anyway. There'd probably be another fight with her stepfather, followed by that weird desire to hurt him. She'd have to go through the living room--and past him--to get to any of the really nice knives in the kitchen, and not being able to sneak up and get him from behind was unappealing--

No. Murder is bad. Murder gets people sent to jail for life. That's why it's unappealing, you moron.

Alex closed her eyes for a moment to clear her mind. Just for a second, barely more than a blink.

The sound of crunching metal broke the teen out of her reverie. It seemed like someone had been hit, but who...

Holy fucking shit, it hurt. It all hurt. Her leg and her arm and her head and everything in between, oh gods...

She was staring up at the cloudy sky through the tinted visor of her helmet. All she really wanted to do was get up, walk back to her motorcycle, swear heavily at whoever hit her, and leave. It wouldn't be hard. Alex just needed to ignore the pain and get back to her feet, maybe pretend that she didn't have--at the very least--a minor concussion...

It was hot and dry and her hands were coated in the sticky blood of the eviscerated man at her feet. The knowledge that another's life had rested on her shoulders, only to be snuffed out so easily, made the young woman ecstatic. His ka would probably go on to endure the trial of Osiris and his forty-two judges before long, all because of her.

The thief knelt down at his side, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. There was more to be done before she'd be fully satisfied, and she had nothing but time on her hands.

Alex inhaled sharply, as the action got harder and harder with every minute that passed. The image of flayed skin and eyes crushed in the palm of a bloodstained hand taunted her, reminding her of how long it had been since her last kill.

Last...kill? She hadn't killed anyone. It had to be a...a dream, or a hallucination, but there was no way it had been a memory. She had never been outside of Seattle, much less a place like that. Alex hardly knew how to use a knife, so accurately carving out someone's eyes was highly impossible.

It was all a figment of her imagination. Blood loss did that to people. Though...the heat had been nice. Or, rather, the concept of heat. The temperature was a bit on the chilly side, and being in a puddle on the ground didn't make it any better.

All the people were starting to get annoying, too. Crowding around, questioning, being noisy in general; Alex disliked things like that.

"Shuddup", she grumbled, attempting to lift her only functioning arm to her head. It felt heavier than normal, and something was dripping down the side of her face. When had her helmet been removed? Whoever did it was stupid, to say the least. Moving crash victims like that was never a good idea.

Someone grabbed her wrist to prevent the action, though the explanation was lost on Alex. Her eyes widened slightly, something else surfacing...

The man's intentions had been clear. It became obvious when he reached for her arm, a rather broad smirk firmly in place. Everyone knew that she was untouchable, but they would try, now and then, to change that. That was their mistake...the thief didn't handle such things with anything other than violence.

His arm snapped like a twig over her knee, but the resulting cry of pain was muffled when her fist hit his throat. Little more than a wet gurgle escaped, and he would be dead in minutes, drowned in his own blood. Why wouldn't they learn? Men were so stupid.

"We need to keep her calm to slow the bleeding!"

"Holding her down like that doesn't seem to be helping--"

"What are you, retarded? She'll only worsen her injuries if we let her flail around."

Alex stared upwards with a steely expression, her chest heaving with the exertion required to scream one's lungs out. She was starting to feel faint...only in a manner far more extreme than anything she'd ever endured before. For a few moments, she hoped that it would lead to unconscious because, really, the friggin' bastards hovering around her were more annoying than the pain, and it would be nice to be oblivious.

That faded, however, leaving her feeling even worse than before. Breathing shouldn't be so difficult, it had always been so easy before...but now it was like trying to inhale through a straw. Passing out would have been so much nicer, even if she only had a short while until...

Death? Alex knew, without a doubt, that her death was imminent. And, this time around, she wouldn't be so lucky; there would be no escaping judgement. They missed her, all those years ago, and she and never endured a punishment for her crimes. Nothing more than a gruesome death.

Even if dying of shock was preferable to paralysis of the diaphragm, she didn't want to give in a second time. Not at the age of seventeen, anyway--after all, she had yet to make it past eighteen from what little she could remember.

The next time Alex's eyes opened, there was a gleam of madness that hadn't been there before.

"You think...you assume...that I'll die again? Because you want me to?" The teen chuckled darkly as she spoke to no one who was actually there, her voice faint enough that few could hear it above the chaos. She moved to prop herself up on her good arm, and a look that promised pain in its truest form gave those who tried to push her back down second thoughts.

"You're going to have to try harder than that..."

Her broken arm hung limply at her side, all but useless. Still, that was a good start for...running away? Oh, how sweet the delusions granted by insanity.

No mind was paid to the blood, foreboding as the pool surrounding her was. Before she could do much else, however, someone knelt at her side. His hand was pressed against her back to offer support, which proved useful when she flinched away and swooned because the sudden movement was received badly.

"This is some mess," the man mused, glancing down at her injuries. He didn't sound panicked or overly harassed, which helped prevent Alex from freaking out too much more, even if she was still greatly displeased with him being there in the first place.

He watched impassively as she prepared to say something, though his expression softened when the teen gave up and sank backwards. She didn't have long left.

"C'mon," he murmured, leaning in to pick her up princess-style. Little mind was paid to her broken leg, as it wouldn't matter soon anyway. "You're too young to die like this. I'll likely get reamed for allowing one to slip like this, but you're special."

That struck Alex as rather odd, but it was the least of her concerns. She rested her head against the stranger's shoulder as she was incapable of doing much else and voiced the only thing that really seemed important. "Am I going to see my mom again...?"

The man had to struggle to hear her, and when the words registered, he sighed heavily. "I'm afraid not."

"Oh...I miss her," the teen said simply.

"I'll pass that on," he replied, standing up as her eyes closed and her breathing stilled. Those nearby didn't notice; an eerie silence had befallen when the ankou arrived. It wouldn't do for them to have memories of someone taking the dead--corpse and all--with them, now would it?

For several moments, he could do little more than stare down at his daughter. It was against the rules to do something like this, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He knew how horrible it was to die young, and she wouldn't be given the same opportunity to continue on in a coherent manner like he had.

He brushed Alex's hair away from her forehead and kissed her gently before starting to walk. Anywhere would do, as long as she would be safe from those who might want to make sure she would reach the hereafter.

Behind them, people snapped out of their dazes; they were left with little more than a wrecked motorcycle, a pool of blood, and a really odd story for the paramedics. They would be expecting a body, after all, and...well, the one at hand had somehow gone missing. It was going to be a long night...