SHe put down her hands and relaxed. Suddenly she wasn't scared...
The still twitching corpse of her father lay only a few feet from her, the mangled and blood soaked form barely resembing the man he once was.
Kicking the lifeless body of her attacker out of the way, she dropped the CZ75 9mm from her hands. It hit the concrete floor with a resounding "Clack!".
She rose to her feet, her leg's barely able to hold her frail frame in the wake of the action that preceeded. She stared coldly at her fathers body. Step by step she willed herself to him, her feet were like clay. She stumbled a little and for the first time caught a glimpse of herself, the tiny waist length white singlet shirt she was wearing was covered in blood, as were the tiny white panties below the shirt. The blood made the shirt cling to her body, detailing every nuance of her young body. A light breeze light caught the blood and sweat causeing her pert breasts to react.
She slumped by the side of her daddys body, he was a young, some would say to young, and more would say that he was a rotten parent. It was all she had ever known and she loved him.
She reached over to the machette embeded in his stomach and pulled, it did not come free easily, requiring nearly more strength than she had left. Then she began to gather the peices of her father, they had been flung all over the floor during the brutal assault upon him, but peice by peice she lay them in the correct place. When she was finished she gazed upon his body and regarded her work with a small amount of pride.
She could see past all the blood and entrails, it was her father. An almost imperceivable smile made it way to her face.
She lifted the machette she was still holding, high above her head and focused.
The sound of police sirens rang out sharply, they were close. The room was then filled with the thump of fists on the door.
"No!" she thought, "Not now!"
She swung the blade with all her might, the weakened muscle and bone gave way quickly under the force of the blow, the cold steel splintering and shattering all in its path until it came to a spark showering halt in the concrete.
She reached for the freshly severed head of her father and held it tightly to her breast.
"They can never seperate us now Daddy, I will always be your little girl."
The door lock finally splintered from the blows of the police sledgehammer, the door flung open and men poured into the room.
She jumped up, startled and dazed by the lights from the police pisotls.. they were yelling at her, but it made no sense to her.. it was all just noise.
She ran for the pistol she had left on the floor. "No! not again!"
She did not hear them fire on her, she did not feel their bullets ripping through her flesh, destroying her.
The world listed to port and she crashed into the cement floor with a hollow thud. Her eyes still open she saw the head of her father slowly come to a halt infront of her and staring into his eyes she felt calm. She wasn't scared anymore.
As the smoke and dust settled, the police could now completely see the horror that lay before them.
The two fellow officer, called out to the emergency call earlier were dead. Their life extinguished with bullets from the gun in the young girl's hand.
The disceted corpse of a headless man, blood splattered walls and floor.
And a body of a young girl, who they had seen just days earlier accusing her father, of rape...