short stories

Nico: Dead or Alive

Examining the bottom of death, Nico stood at the edge of the cliff. Her long black cape blew in the wind as war became its decoration. Hands bound like a pet, fear of the unknown is a familiar recipe for Nico. Rory her captor, gave his gun to the goon behind him then kissed Nico. In love with death, he knew she had to pay for the slaying of his crew. Pinching her nipple, he let out a moan then took his gun back. His anger is the spawn of a new terror that keeps allies silent. Torn enemies took vengeance as she repaid their debts one by one. Blood seeping from her lip, the sun became an unpleasant devil. No tears for vengeful eyes, she knew death is the real cure. As she began to swallow the pain, Rory began his deadly prayer.

‘Death to you bitch, if I didn’t hate you I would fuck you before I kill you!’
Pushing her farther to the edge, Nico began to stumble. At that moment, she became whole again, like any other soldier. Her silence gave him caution as he pressed the gun to her temple.

‘I love you, but you knew payday was coming.’

Nico fell to her feet as she took in the fatal shot. Rory, let off another shot then tossed her over the cliff. Then as he began turning away, he looked back.

‘Nico, I hope you know what you are doing’

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