She looked across the long stretch of the beach, long tendrils of mist trailing from the sea. The mist swirled around her as she felt the soft sand under her feet. Clutching the knife in her hand, she glanced around the premise. No unfortunate souls wandered in this land. She was all alone. Trapped in this desolate land, destined to walk the scalding sand and smell the salty seas. She felt as though a hundred humans were pushing down on her shoulders, willing her to collapse and cook in the sand. She wanted someone to show up, but no one could ever get here. As she felt her feet starting to burn, she set off down the long flat beach. Her surroundings never changed. Always sandy and the sea. She wondered if the water was safe. The other world was harsh and dry, and if she stood still, she sunk into the sand. But here seemed safe. She frowned as the sea seemed to get larger, and stronger too. This worried her. If the water was dangerous, she would never get out alive. She heard the fog around her, whispering and moaning, 'Killer... Killer...' It irritated her. She was not a killer. If he hadn't gotten to her first, she would have been killed instead. She slashed at the fog around her and it dissipated, and she continued. She didn't like it here. The other world had hundreds of little trees and animals. Here only had water and sand. If she was going to keep living this soft torture, she must stay alive. But she couldn't ever be alive again. She could have died and gone to hell and the torture would have been better. She could feel something around her, and she wouldn't let her guard down. She crept around like a small mouse. More like a small bear, poised to strike. She was skilled in this. She had killed before, and was ready to kill again. Hundreds of times she had gotten ready for this. But now she was out numbered. She could tell that if she were to turn around that there would be guards there. But before she could turn ready to take the guards of the cell, she felt a knife sink into her back and she let out an agonizing scream. She collapsed and turned around. He was standing there, tall, thin and with a small knife through his temple. He bloodily smiled as she closed her eyes. He turned and whispered, "If only you had killed more. Maybe you would have learned to guard your back..."
The guards were baffled, "Sir she was found on the ground at three forty five last night. She had a knife in her back, but there were no signs of a security breach."
The head jail keeper sighed, "We know that. Things like this have happened before. First it was that abusive mother. She was found on the brink of death, beaten and bruised. After that it was that young man, who killed people by over drugging them. He was found killed with an over dose of arsenic. Now it's that young murderer. Killed with a knife in the back, just like the way she killed that young man two weeks ago..."
The other man gulped, "But sir... That young boy's finger prints were on her. All over her... And she had a knife..."
The head jail keeper sighed again, "It's not a coincidence..."