K/V: Victim
Name: Catherine Lynch
Age: 15
Sex: F
Characteristics: Long black hair in a ponytail, brown eyes, average height, curvy, busty, half-Indian(not Native American). Wearing a black gothic-style minidress, glasses, fishnet pantyhose, and black boots. No bra or panties.
Scene: Sneaking into her neighbor's house at 3:00 in the morning on the dare of her friends.

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I saw her friends outside. They didn't seem to see me. I know they all think this house is haunted. It is, by me.

She sneaked in through an open window. I keep all my windows open. I don't even lock my front door or back. In truth, I have a house within my house. There's a layer of rooms between the outside and the inner core my home, where it's as breezy as outside. The inner core, however, is a fortress. The attic is an observatory, I'm always on my roof. The basement is a nuclear bunker with fish farms and gardens.

I'm cloaked in black, there are no lights except her flashlight. I see her from around the corner in a mirror. I stay perfectly still, lightly holding my scythe.

The thing about scythes as weapons is they weren't generally used as depicted in media. It was more often just a lot off revolutionaries rising up and using them in place of spears to cover the same roles, protect riflemen from calvary and hold off professional infantry. But you could use a scythe as personal weapon like a monk- if you train with it enough. I trained endlessly with this scythe. It was smooth and just as long as I needed it to be. The blade was perfect.

She got too close. Before she even turned the corner, I shoved the scythe to her ankles and swung it up and around, catching her left foot and bringing her to the ground. She gave a short scream as she fell, not even realizing yet that she was doomed.

She looked up and at me as I skinned her and carved her thighs, thrusting and yanking the scythe again and again. I sliced her clothes off and she was nude. She covered herself and then held her hands outstretched, begging for her life, but I did not listen.

Every time she tried to get up, I pulled her to the floor. I kept removing her flesh and skin like she was string cheese. She had a lovely asshole, and I enjoyed thrusting my blade in there and puncturing out of her asscheeks, then leaving a gaping wound when I unsheathed it from her bottom and another sliced off her other buttock. Her thighs were deliciously smooth. Her back was to easy, though my scythe did get caught in her ribs a couple off times.

"PLEASE SIR! OH PLEASE I'M SORRY I'LLV NEVER STEAL AGAIN I WON'T VCOME IN HER I'M SO SOOOO SORRRRYYYYYYY!! WAAHAHAAAAHAAGHGHHUUGH AH AH OWWW OW AH AHHH!!"

I finished her off by thrusting the scythe into her neck at one side, then leaping to the other side yanking it with me while pushing it to the floor, beheading her.

Quickly, I grabbed her head and showed her the lifeless body that she used to be, and her wide eyed shock turned to mindlessness as her eyes rolled up inside her head.

Then I called the cops as I heard sirens in the distance. Doubtless, her screams motivated someone to call them, but I was well within my rights.