▐ @retentoelegans || here u go one serial killer au
▒ Ω ▒ “TSK- THAT DIDN’T GO AS I PLANNED. I had hope he might suffer more, but my overzealous slashing clearly wasn’t mapped out.” The woman seems more concerned with the state of her boredom and her disappointment in the kill than the blood upon her person. A consequence of her broken psyche, one might suppose. Alice had been, for many years, a strong girl who had fought tooth and nail for many years to climb out of the pit of darkness that life had cast her in. Every blow that she had suffered that pushed her back down was met with resilience- the need, the DESIRE to get better. To heal. To move on. To lose one’s sister is sad; one’s family, tragic. Such a tragedy only continues when one loses their home, their childhood, their sanity.
AND to fight, and fight, and FIGHT...only to end up in the hands of the person who had caused you such a loss in the first place was the definition of misfortune. Of course, she hadn’t known that at the time. Memories had been repressed, years of treatment had clouded the night of the fire. Alice had hoped, and pleaded with whatever PITIFUL EXCUSE FOR A GOD this world had that she could be helped. That Dr. Angus Bumby was a good man, with good intentions.
INSTEAD, he corrupted her mind. Slowly he took control, seeping his influence into the deepest corners of her mind. She ended up being one of the many patients he pimped out to the highest bidder- worse still, she became his personal favorite. And yet, deep in her unconscious, the memories still fought to come to the surface ( even when she didn’t try, Alice was nothing but a fighter ). One morning, it all came flooding back; her sister’s complaints of harassment from one of her father’s students. The young man in her home the night of the fire. The realization of who he was in her life, the first time her brainwashed haze had been lifted since coming into his care.
SHE killed him that morning, in his office; eloped before anyone could report the crime- though, not without paying a very murderous visit to some of her previous clientele. Such scum should not be allowed to live and torment others. It was while fleeing that she ran into, and eventually acquainted, Katsumi. The similarities between the two of them were remarkable- it was the first time in Alice’s life that she had ever felt UNDERSTOOD. The two had become a rather notorious pair- and still on the run from law enforcement, as it currently stood.
IN their quaint little hideout, Alice removed her mask and set it upon it’s stand. The grinning face of a feline stared back up at her in a way that might be unsettling to most. For Alice, it was simply normal. Unceremoniously, she strips her dress and stockings off, leaving her in simply her undergarments. While she had never minded blood, it doesn’t mean she wants to sit around in soaked clothing. Soaking the clothes only saits her boredom for the next few minutes, as she enjoys watching the water turn red ( she’s got the interests of child sometimes, she swears ). It is with a huff that she comes back in fresh clothing, and plops herself upon the floor.
“I do wonder how the news will cover that one.” She speaks with emerald gaze pinned to the ceiling, as if transfixed upon it. “They never make it sound very exciting. Perhaps they wish to steer film makers away from the idea of creating works based upon these killings. I doubt it will work; the film industry has long run out of original ideas.”
