New killer

The rain plastered strands of Rain’s dyed black hair to her forehead, each drop a tiny hammer against her skull. The water sluiced off her heavy, dark eye makeup, leaving streaks down her pale cheeks like war paint. She hunched deeper into her oversized, black hoodie, the damp fabric clinging uncomfortably to her thin frame. Each step she took on the slick pavement was deliberate, measured, a counterpoint to the chaotic storm raging inside her. Officer Miller. The name was a festering wound beneath her skin, a constant throb of resentment that pulsed with every beat of her heart.

He thought he was untouchable, hiding behind his badge and his self-righteous pronouncements. He thought he was a hero, a protector of the innocent. He was wrong. He was a bully, a tyrant disguised in a uniform. And Rain, she was going to expose him.

The memory flashed, unbidden and unwelcome, but she forced herself to confront it. Alex, her best friend, cornered against the lockers, face flushed with anger and humiliation. A stupid argument, a childish spat blown out of proportion. Then Miller, looming over them both, his face contorted with a rage that seemed disproportionate to the situation. The way he’d grabbed Alex, yanking him away like a rag doll. The sneer on his face as he read Alex his rights, his voice dripping with condescension.

The expulsion hearing had been a farce. Miller’s testimony, embellished and twisted, had sealed Alex’s fate. Gone. Just like that. A promising future, ripped away because of Miller’s unchecked power. The injustice of it burned in Rain’s gut, a white-hot ember that refused to be extinguished.

Rain reached her small, cluttered bedroom. The walls were covered in posters of bands with screaming guitars and angst-ridden lyrics. A haven, a sanctuary from the suffocating normalcy of suburban life. She tossed her soaked hoodie onto the floor, the dampness a physical manifestation of the darkness that clung to her.

She opened a worn, black notebook. The cover was adorned with a crudely drawn skull, its eyes hollow and accusing. Inside, the pages were filled with Rain's spidery handwriting, a chaotic jumble of thoughts, observations, and meticulously detailed plans. This was her journal, her confidante, the silent witness to her growing obsession.

The first entry, penned weeks ago, stared back at her: *“Alex was a sacrifice. Miller thinks he won, but this is only the beginning. He abused his power. He took away Alex's future. Now, I will take away his peace.”*

Rain flipped through the pages, each entry a step deeper into the abyss. She had researched everything. Methods of revenge, both subtle and extreme. Poisons, traps, psychological warfare. She’d dismissed them all. They lacked a certain… poetry. Miller needed to understand the weight of his actions, to feel the same crushing despair he had inflicted on Alex.

She paused on a page filled with sketches of the human anatomy. Circled were the eyes, the throat, the stomach. Areas of extreme vulnerability. Below, a quote scrawled in bold letters: *“An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind.”* She scoffed. Gandhi was a fool. Some people only understood violence.

Another page detailed her research into the legal definition of assault, battery, and manslaughter. She needed to know the consequences, to anticipate the risks. Not because she feared them, but because she needed to be prepared.

Her gaze landed on the information she’d painstakingly gathered about Officer Miller. His address, neatly printed in block letters. His wife, Sarah, a smiling, blonde woman in a picture clipped from the local newspaper. She felt a flicker of… something. Pity? No. It was irrelevant. Sarah was collateral damage, an unfortunate consequence of Miller's actions.

His work schedule was meticulously recorded. His daily routines, down to the minute. The time he left for work, the route he took, the coffee shop he frequented. She knew more about Officer Miller than he knew about himself.

Rain had considered the irony of it all. Miller, the supposed protector, the guardian of the community, becoming the victim. The hunter becoming the hunted. It was a delicious twist, a perversion of justice that fueled her resolve.

She closed the journal, the sound echoing in the small room. She stared at a picture of Officer Miller pinned to her wall. It was a candid shot she’d taken from across the street, capturing him in a moment of unguarded arrogance. His face was flushed, his jaw clenched. He looked every bit the bully she knew him to be.

A slow, chilling smile spread across Rain’s face. The fog outside her window swirled and thickened, mirroring the fog in her mind, the fog that obscured the line between justice and vengeance, right and wrong. The rain continued to fall, washing away the remnants of the day, cleansing the world in preparation for the storm that was about to break

_____________________________________________

The rain plastered strands of Rain’s dyed black hair to her forehead, each drop a tiny hammer against her skull. The water sluiced off her heavy, dark eye makeup, leaving streaks down her pale cheeks like war paint. She hunched deeper into her oversized, black hoodie, the damp fabric clinging uncomfortably to her thin frame. Each step she took on the slick pavement was deliberate, measured, a counterpoint to the chaotic storm raging inside her. Officer Miller. The name was a festering wound beneath her skin, a constant throb of resentment that pulsed with every beat of her heart.

He thought he was untouchable, hiding behind his badge and his self-righteous pronouncements. He thought he was a hero, a protector of the innocent. He was wrong. He was a bully, a tyrant disguised in a uniform. And Rain, she was going to expose him.

The memory flashed, unbidden and unwelcome, but she forced herself to confront it. Alex, her best friend, cornered against the lockers, face flushed with anger and humiliation. A stupid argument, a childish spat blown out of proportion. Then Miller, looming over them both, his face contorted with a rage that seemed disproportionate to the situation. The way he’d grabbed Alex, yanking him away like a rag doll. The sneer on his face as he read Alex his rights, his voice dripping with condescension.

The expulsion hearing had been a farce. Miller’s testimony, embellished and twisted, had sealed Alex’s fate. Gone. Just like that. A promising future, ripped away because of Miller’s unchecked power. The injustice of it burned in Rain’s gut, a white-hot ember that refused to be extinguished.

Rain reached her small, cluttered bedroom. The walls were covered in posters of bands with screaming guitars and angst-ridden lyrics. A haven, a sanctuary from the suffocating normalcy of suburban life. She tossed her soaked hoodie onto the floor, the dampness a physical manifestation of the darkness that clung to her.

She opened a worn, black notebook. The cover was adorned with a crudely drawn skull, its eyes hollow and accusing. Inside, the pages were filled with Rain's spidery handwriting, a chaotic jumble of thoughts, observations, and meticulously detailed plans. This was her journal, her confidante, the silent witness to her growing obsession.

The first entry, penned weeks ago, stared back at her: *“Alex was a sacrifice. Miller thinks he won, but this is only the beginning. He abused his power. He took away Alex's future. Now, I will take away his peace.”*

Rain flipped through the pages, each entry a step deeper into the abyss. She had researched everything. Methods of revenge, both subtle and extreme. Poisons, traps, psychological warfare. She’d dismissed them all. They lacked a certain… poetry. Miller needed to understand the weight of his actions, to feel the same crushing despair he had inflicted on Alex.

She paused on a page filled with sketches of the human anatomy. Circled were the eyes, the throat, the stomach. Areas of extreme vulnerability. Below, a quote scrawled in bold letters: *“An eye for an eye will only make the whole world blind.”* She scoffed. Gandhi was a fool. Some people only understood violence.

Another page detailed her research into the legal definition of assault, battery, and manslaughter. She needed to know the consequences, to anticipate the risks. Not because she feared them, but because she needed to be prepared.

Her gaze landed on the information she’d painstakingly gathered about Officer Miller. His address, neatly printed in block letters. His wife, Sarah, a smiling, blonde woman in a picture clipped from the local newspaper. She felt a flicker of… something. Pity? No. It was irrelevant. Sarah was collateral damage, an unfortunate consequence of Miller's actions.

His work schedule was meticulously recorded. His daily routines, down to the minute. The time he left for work, the route he took, the coffee shop he frequented. She knew more about Officer Miller than he knew about himself.

Rain had considered the irony of it all. Miller, the supposed protector, the guardian of the community, becoming the victim. The hunter becoming the hunted. It was a delicious twist, a perversion of justice that fueled her resolve.

She closed the journal, the sound echoing in the small room. She stared at a picture of Officer Miller pinned to her wall. It was a candid shot she’d taken from across the street, capturing him in a moment of unguarded arrogance. His face was flushed, his jaw clenched. He looked every bit the bully she knew him to be.

A slow, chilling smile spread across Rain’s face. The fog outside her window swirled and thickened, mirroring the fog in her mind, the fog that obscured the line between justice and vengeance, right and wrong. The rain continued to fall, washing away the remnants of the day, cleansing the world in preparation for the storm that was about to break

Rain flipped through the pages, each entry a step deeper into the abyss. She had researched everything. Methods of revenge, both subtle and extreme. Poisons, traps, psychological warfare. She’d dismissed them all. They lacked a certain… poetry. Miller needed to understand the weight of his actions, to feel the same crushing despair he had inflicted on Alex.

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