Hey everyone! This here is a new fanfic, and the idea had come to me a while ago but I just never really started the story. I thought my idea was pretty original, except for the romance stuff because lets face it: its in every flippin story. But everyone loves those make out scenes and lemons, and it totally twisted my plot up like pretzels, so BOOOM. Here it is. Enjoy! BTW, this is somewhat more of the prologue than chapter 1 but...idk...it depends on how the reader looks at it ^^

Silence. Don't let them hear your breath. The element of surprise is always useful, especially for seeing the victim's eye-widened jaw-dropped look of shock. Ah, that look is always so satisfying. They never expect me to be the one to even think of this kind of thing. If they had to, they might've suspected others, their coworkers and such, but never me. Why? Well, because they trusted me. That's how it works. I befriend them, we spill our secrets to each other. Well, they do. I make up as I work and wing it, but they still believe me. They always do, and once I've learned enough of their secrets, I strike.

In a way, I think of it as a hobby, as well as a job. The idea that I have the power to do these kind of things makes me proud. It means I am strong. Stronger than they are, because they can't stop me. Stronger than I was before, when I couldn't stop anyone. When I pull that trigger, I feel the urge to just laugh because the look of disbelief on their faces are that hilarious. It never tires me, never. When the blood splashes out violently in tiny splatters and paints the cement, I soak up the beautiful master piece that I just created. My boss has even called me the Black Cat of Misfortune once, and I liked that name's feel as it rolled off my tongue. Yes, I really liked it.

Right now, I can see my victim. She's going through her normal routine after work: Taking a shortcut through an alley to her apartment while carrying a Dunkin Doughnuts bag and coffee. I know all of this because I know everything about her. I persuaded, and she told. Everything.

"Amu," I call in a whisper. She turns slightly, but not enough to see me, then shrugs. I admit, she's a powerful woman. Not in social standards, but in physical and mental standards. She's confident, hardly hesitates, and joined multiple martial arts clubs back in college. She's strong, I'll admit it. "Amu," I call louder. This time, she turns, and smirks.

"Look who it is. Thought I heard you. Stalking me, Yoru?"

"Kind of." I breathed, and gave a chuckle. "You're just so sexy, couldn't resist." She rolled her eyes and shoved me lightly.

"Baaaaka. I thought you were a rapist for a second there." She scoffed and put her hands on her hips.

"Oh? And what would you have done if I was?" I smirked. Grinning, she started cracking her knuckles.

"Beat you up, of course. Maybe kick you in the balls here and there. Cut off that beloved hair of yours, too."

I sucked in a breath. "That's a little harsh, now isn't it?" I really did like that hair of mine...I mean, I'm not narcissist, but it was a deep sexy blue and soft like feathers. It was something I liked to show off and be proud of.

Rolling her eyes, she put her hand on my shoulder. "It could always be worse, I could've said I'd kill you." She laughed. I stiffened for a second but relaxed instantly so as not to alarm Amu. "Neh, Amu."

"Hm?"

"What if you had to kill me for an absolute reason? Would you?" I was just curious. After all, Amu was interesting. Spunky. Shame she'd be dead so soon. I had the feeling we would've gotten along pretty well.

"Probably." She immediately answered, and smiled. For a split second, I sensed an eeriness behind that light-hearted expression. She didn't even show a bit of hesitation. Well, this was Amu. Not exactly the most predictable person in the world. "You'd understand, right? Why I'd kill you?" She joked (was it my imagination or did she suddenly radiate coldness towards me? Pretty sure there was some eeriness.) but I just gave her a little half-smile, eyes gleaming. I glanced at my watch. It was time.

"Well, I hope you understand, then." I tilted my head and gave a mock apologetic look, and brought out my gun hiding in my belt.

"Wh-Wha...? Woah! Y-Yoru!" Amu, staring, raised her arms as if to prevent me from closing in. As I backed her up to a wall, I noticed her hand coming out from her pocket. It looked like a cell phone...? Hah! Too bad there wasn't any signal-plus, my name wasn't even Yoru. Tough luck, Amu.

"Sorry Amu, game over. You lost." I smiled and prepared to pull my trigger. As my finger almost pushed that last inch, she laughed. It almost sounded like a never-ending laugh, and the way it rung out in the alley was definitely eerie. Her sides shaking, she finally straightened up and stoop up tall, eyes narrowed with a dangerous spark contained inside them. Suddenly, it seemed like she was towering above me. I stopped.

"You know, it's funny. We seem to have the same jobs." Sneering, she gave a nasty grin and pulled out her own gun. Shit. That was some element of surprise.

Hmm? Hmmmmm? so how was it? Amazing? Utterly a pile of shit? Review and tell me ur opinion-i dont judge. however, let me warn you, i dont welcome flamers or haters, unless theyre actually giving me constructive criticism. I've used this ex in my other stories, so here it is: If you review and tell me my story "sucks like dick" then no. that aint okay, bro. And yea, I'll be mad, bro. But if you tell me WHY it "sucks like dick" then ill just be like, "cool, ill sleep on it."