The Pros And Cons Of Death In Leece Street

I laid on the ground. I knew what had happened. Everyone hovering around me did as well.

I was concentrating so hard on the door that I almost didn’t see the two officers and their K-9 walking toward me. I tried to distance myself without seeming uncomfortable but this made me look more uncomfortable. I couldn’t look

I sat there patiently waiting for the man to leave, while i sat there i could feel blood dripping down my face. I could even feel my fist hitting the mans face again, each knuckle pressing against his bony face and feeling the creaking of his jaw. Then i came back to reality, My face blood red and being scared to the bone. Terrified of the man finding where i hid.

I screamed and stood up. I backed into the corner. He walked closer while saying in a very distorted and scary voice

I ducked down so he could not see me. All I hear was the man running but he didn't make it. The man was dead, his back on the ground, his right leg under him and his one eye open the other with a star shaped hole.

And that's when it happened. It felt like someone took a hot knife, and started carving it into his flesh. He couldn't resist letting out a pained moan - the kind that Dean would forever tease him for -, and dropping his book with a soft thud. People in the rows around him glance at him, looking at the weirdo they consider him to be. He doesn't currently care, because the pain shooting up his arm is the worst he's ever felt.

Going to the battlefield, Trent, Lenice, and I were fighting our way towards the other side of the battlefield, and suddenly … I heard a gunshot.

We shouted back and forth. And when push came to shove, I ended up on the kitchen floor of our apartment with shattered glass and broken china all around me. For a sec, I felt stunned, but soon went into survival mode. I recalled the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde life I had endured growing up with my drunken abusive dad. No way, would I repeat that terror again with Mark.

You created hell in my world as you threaten my wife that you would murder her if she told anyone and to force my children for slaves for your ostentatious lifestyle. Hell be with you, you sinful coward. HELL BE WITH YOU!” Those were the fiery and intense worlds that rushed out of the man's mouth. As the aggressor processed once again, what the man had done, I saw him get even more angry. The attack pulled out his sword again and stabbed the slowly decaying man one, two, three, so many times I lost count. I’ve never seen anyone be so brutal. I can hear the attacker clench his teeth and scream with anger. The entry wounds on the now dead man were endless. It was not a murder anymore, it was overkill. It was satanic. Out of frustration and fatigueness the aggressor threw the sword besides the body and fell on his knees. I was scared and confused on what to do. The aggressor had greatly suffered because of this man and I’ve seen him around town and he didn’t disclose anything to anyone. He did kill a man on the other side and justice will take place of the dead man. I stuck in between reporting to the authorities what this individual has done or keep it a secret for his peace. I glanced one last time at the scene.

I sat down on the ground, buried my head in my arms. An overwhelming sensation of fear gripped me and I

“I am coming for you next, know nobody will know our secret” with a murderous look on his face.

The prisoner lunged over the rail, as bullets incinerated the stairs, where it had been only moments before. As the prisoner flew to safety, time seemed to hold still for a moment, the world in all its perfections and imperfections holding a collective breath. Reality came crashing back, the ground shook and a nearby building transformed into smithereens, firing everything into the air.

I shut my eyes tightly but I open them again as another loud bang rang through the house and everything went

Then, within a minute, the bullets started rolling in. Pop-Pop-Pop, they shrieked, coming straight at me. Within an instant, Blitz jumped in front of me, saving my

What seemed like mere seconds later, cops busted through the door, showering splinters of wood through the threshold. Their gun were trained on me but I stood there, as still as the lifeless bodies at my feet. The bloody knife I held in my hand was a testimony to the crimes that had been committed, whose victims lay at my feet.