I'm the Psycho, You're the Freakshow

[VoltTurtle]

The blade of the digging bar tore into Alex's neck, ripping it wide open for all the world to see.

Katelyn huffed and withdrew it, only to kneel down next to the body to wipe it and the knife off on the unblemished parts of Alex's clothes. Stabbing him had been a meaningless gesture, given that he was already unconscious, but it certainly made her feel better. Due to the dead be damned. How she felt while she still clung to life in this place was all that mattered, as far as she was concerned.

A few minutes passed as she remained kneeling next to the body, watching as it stared off into the distance at something she couldn't see, eyes lacking any recognition. She watched what had once been Alex's life pool on the floor around him, soaking into his clothes and staining the floorboards a deep crimson. Her eyes trailed up his body, and then back to his face. For a moment, he looked like Robin.

She shook her head violently, standing up. She didn't feel bad about killing him, not one bit, she told herself. Unlike basically everyone else, he deserved it. He was a needless asshole who chased her even after she ran away, and everyone left was better off with him gone. May she be the only monster still skulking through the forests of this place, offing innocent people like Taylor.

A sharp inhale at the reminder of yesterday. Her thoughts were better wasted elsewhere.

She leaned back down, taking care not to look Alex in the eyes, and pilfered his supplies, her reward for a hunt well done. By the time she finished moving his rations into her own bag, it was nearly full to bursting. Hopefully her friends were waiting for her, and she'd be able to share. Maybe she could gorge herself instead if it turned out they had abandoned her after all.

Katelyn took both of his weapons, tying strips of Alex's clothes together to reinforce her sling, before adding his spear to her digging bar. The machete, meanwhile, slipped into her left hand, while the billhook took position in her right. She stood back up to swing them both in the air together, judging their weight and how they interacted with her body.

Once before, she played a game of Dungeons & Dragons where she made a Tabaxi character who fought using two short swords in either hand. Her name had been Star in the Morning, and Katelyn always thought she was so cool. Star was strong and fast and smart, and always knew the right thing to say, unlike her. For a moment, as she swung her two little swords through the air, she felt cool like Star.

Then, the fantasy passed, and Katelyn was left alone in a dim, dilapidated house, standing over the still-warm corpse of a boy she had just murdered.

She decided it was time to leave.

((On her way out, absentmindedly, she pat the frame of the back door to the house.))