Sleeping Tight

Marlene watched impassively as the young boy slept, carefully unsheathing her sword.

The target had fallen asleep to his gacha game, its tinny jingles looping as barely dressed girls beckoned towards him. In his slumber, his growing pubescent body had started pumping blood into his penis, tenting his pajama bottoms.

Restlessly he turned over onto his side, exposing his slim neck to the elements. She gracefully padded over to the side of the bed, gently pulled the bed cover off the sleeping youngster and placed the sword edge against his throat.

Perhaps the coldness of the steel woke him. He stirred and opened his eyes. Before he had a chance to fully process the scene, Marlene thrust the sword down, neatly separating the boy's groggy head from his shoulders.

The body reflexively contracted, hands balling into fists. The head rolled away, falling off the bed onto the hardwood floor with a thud. Steaming red blood squirted from the severed arteries, similarly the esophagus with the pale brown vomit of the boy's final meal, a cream of mushroom soup.

She picked the head up off the floor, turning it over to stare into his face. His eyes were wide open, pupils contracting as his brain asphyxiated, lips stained red. She kissed his forehead and dropped it into the duffel bag containing the heads of the boy's mother and father.

It didnt help to have a family in the cartel business.