Every city requires a White Knight of Justice

"This is for justice." A swipe of the blade, cleaving through the flesh of a human neck.

"This is for the good of the world." A heavy stomp thrust into the set of shattering ribcage.

"This is for stopping criminals like you." A long sword was pulled out from the chest of a bleeding corpse.

The blonde man turned around, staring lifelessly at the group of armed, yet shivering people standing a fair distance away from him. Flicking the blood from the sword in his right hand, the man walked a few steps to his right and retrieved a white, bloodied sword sheath from the ground.

"You...You monster!" One of the fighters in the group yelled, his trembling finger pointed at the man. "What justice is there in your actions?!"

"You don't have to understand." The man tucked into a slight crouch and kicked off the ground.

The sudden speed caught the group off-guard as some of the fighters received deep fatal cut on various parts of their bodies. The blonde man was standing within the group, his wide stance tense as he spun around with himself as the axis, slicing through bodies like wet paper.

"I had seven sisters." The man said as he continued cutting through his foes. "The eldest was married to a good man. Or so I've thought." The entire blade lanced through a head, killing the victim instantly.

"The good, kind man was only a façade." The man pulled the sword out and continued his story-telling. "My eldest sister was physically abused by her husband. Every. Single. Day." He raised the sword to parry an incoming hit. "Unable to take the abuse anymore, she hanged herself in her bedroom."

"My second sister walked down the street one day." The story-teller threw a kick out, shattering another victim's elbow. The resulting scream was promptly ignored. "She never saw it coming. A couple of men dragged her away into a back alley." He head-butted the man in the face, immediately stopping the scream. "She was found a couple of days later, dead in a dumpster. Diagnosis showed that she was raped, before her death."

"Third sister...was bullied by the students in her school." Another incoming attack was parried, shortly followed by a knee into the female attacker's solar plexus. The sound of wet cough and blood spat was silenced as the head was decapitated by the sharp blade. "In the end, she was pushed to the front of a moving truck. She didn't even have the chance to scream when the Dust loaded truck crushed her skull under its tyres."

"My fourth sister was found dead three weeks later." The blade sliced through a torso as if it was mere butter against a hot knife. "The back of her head was bashed in by a blunt weapon. And her left ribs had caved in from the the same weapon." A hard sideways kick crushed a fragile windpipe. "The broken bones had pierced through her left lung and heart. Nothing else was found."

"The fifth sister had an argument with her boyfriend just by the window in his high-rise apartment." An attacking mace was caught by the handle and used to smash a head in, followed by several knocks into the chest, breaking the bones within. "Things went south. And she was accidentally thrown out of the window." A heavy punch tore a lower jaw off the hinge entirely. "Her death was swift."

"The sixth sister was too trusting." An elbow smashed into an eye, bursting the eyeball with the eye socket. "The company which she was supposed to apply for a job cheated her of her money." The blade was brought downwards, with enough force to cleave through the body entirely in the middle. "She took the leap off the cliff. Her body was never found."

"Our youngest sister, the most innocent and pure of us all." A stomp onto the ground shattered a kneecap between the foot and the tarmac. "The kidnappers had her in custody. They demanded four millions." A kick to the side of the head broke the neck instantly. "We complied, but they broke the deal."

The sheath was brought up to block a heavy sword strike. The blonde man glance lifelessly up to his snarling attacker. Either from fear or anger, the blonde man did not know, nor did he cared. "They took our money. And they took her life." the sheath suddenly expanded into a shield, knocking the sword back. "They sent her back, in pieces." A glint of silver flashed as he cut through the attacker.

"I'm not doing this for revenge." The blonde man flicked the blood off his sword, followed by collapsing the bloodied white shield back into its sheath form. "I'm doing this so that other people won't have to suffer what my sisters went through. Or the shock-induced coma that my parents are going through." He turned and approached the exit of the warehouse. The warehouse where he killed over thirty people that night. "That's right..."

"I'm doing this for justice."

"I'm doing this for the good of the world."

"I'm Jaune Arc. I'm the White Knight. It is I who delivers punishment unto evil-doers."

The Queen of the Wonderland loves to play

"I'm the Queen of the castle~ ...I'm the Queen of the castle~ ..." The bubbly ginger-haired woman hummed to herself as she skipped through the night of the empty streets.

Walking without care of the world, she ignored the fact that she had bumped into a group of gruff-looking men. One of them turned back with a grunt and a snarl. "Hey, woman." He called out. "What's your problem?"

"Hmm?" The woman spun around, staring at the group of thugs with innocent looking eyes. "What did you say?"

"I said, what's your problem?!" The man stepped closer to the smaller female. "Don't you think it's rude to just walk away after bumping into someone?"

"I don't see any problem here." The woman grinned cheekily. "None of you got hurt, right?"

"Oh?" One of the thugs at the back whistled. "This girl's got spunk. She think she can hurt us just by walk through us." The rest of the group guffawed at the sarcasm.

"I want you to apologise." The first man ignored the words, keeping his glared at the woman before him. "Or..." The glare turned lewd as his eyes travelled down the woman's body. "You can offer us something as an apology."

"Something, eh?" The woman grinned. "Such insolence towards the Queen."

This earned a chorus of rough laughter as the men threw their head back. "She said 'Queen'! She fucking hell said 'Queen'!" The laughter was so hard that some of the men even wiped tears from their eyes. "Oh man this is priceless!"

"Heh, woman." The first man calmed his laughter and face the female again. "So you are a queen, eh? Then I'm the King that owns you! And now I order you to please me."

"No one orders the Queen of the castle." The grin on the woman's face dropped a little, turning slightly more into a sneer.

"Oh yeah?" The man leered over at the woman. "And what are you going to do about it?"

"Off with your head." The words came out as a ghost of whisper as something heavy collided with the man's head. However, the collision did not just bash the face in. It outright tore the entire head from the man's shoulder.

"Homerun!" The woman sang at sight of the dismembered head splatting into the wall of the nearest building, leaving a bloodied smudge on the concrete. "Now who's next?" She turned with a crazed grin at the shell-shocked group, resting a over-sized mallet on her shoulder. The headless body tilted to one side before slumping heavily onto the ground.

"Ah...ahh..." Words fought hard to exit the men's mouth. It was silent until someone within the group snapped out of the trance. "RUN!" He screamed and took off with the ones smart enough to follow his orders.

"Good, good." The woman grinned viciously as she began skipping after the scrambling men. "This is how the game should be."

The men kept running. They kept sprinting for their lives. How many survived, none of them know. However, what scared them the most, was the definite feeling that they were already marked by Death.

One of the men slowed to a stop at the bus station, panting deeply. He felt as if he had ran miles from the psychotic woman. No one else was in sight. He had no idea if his friends had escaped as well, nor did he want to find out. It was too dangerous to go back.

Moments went by like eternity. The silence in the air was solely accompanied by the man's deep breathing. The man kept glancing around, his surroundings lid only by a small light at the bus station, that which only covered no more than a couple of metres into the darkness.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of footsteps approaching, accompanied with the sound of something heavy being dragged on the ground.

"I found you~ ." The deathly familiar sing-song voice reached his ears. "You're the last one. Well done for keeping this game so interesting for me."

Last one? That means...his friend were all dead?

The man's knees buckled under himself, dropping his rear onto the ground. His despaired facial features paled even further as he watched the ginger-haired woman drenched in blood approaching him steadily.

"And once again, Nora Valkyrie the Queen wins the game." The woman grinned maniacally as she brought the mallet down onto her game.

The next morning, the sides of the bus station was fenced by a long strap of police tape. Dozens of pedestrians tried to peek at a source.

"This is the last one of them." A constable grimaced as he watched the bodybag being zipped up, covering the unrecognisable pulp of flesh on the ground in front of the bus station.

"Yeah." His colleague frown as he glanced at the ground before himself. "This is truly the work of a psychopath." On the ground was a phrase written in blood, the size of the fonts as large as a full grown man.

THE QUEEN OF THE CASTLE WINS THE GAME

Spartans never die, they are just Missing In Action

All it took was an accident. Or was it an accident?

Pyrrha Nikos did not know what happened. However, she knew that she had to apologise for her deeds. She did not know what she had done, just to apologise over and over again.

The red-haired woman stepped into a room, her anxious green eyes scanning the interior. The room itself was dark. Shadow shrouding the room in pure abyss.

"Spartan, begin training in 3...2...1." Blinding light suddenly flooded the entire room, revealing three men standing side by side at the other end of the room.

Panicked, Pyrrha turned around to find a door barring her exit. "Please...please no! I'm sorry!" She ran to the door and pounded in the think metal. "Please! I don't want to fight anymore!"

The men took no heed as they charged at the only woman in the room. Pyrrha turned just to have a fist connecting into her left ribs in a hard punch. The force of the hit lifted her off the ground and send her flying into the wall adjacent to the door.

Pyrrha coughed, having the wind knocked out of her lungs, and stared up fearfully at the approaching attackers. A raised fist sped towards her face.

Instinct took over as Pyrrha leaped and rolled sideways, effectively avoided the receiving end of the punch.

However, the three attackers continued their pursue, taking turns to throw either a kick or a punch at the retreating woman. The assault continued until a shoulder check caught up with the woman catapulted the lithe body into the air.

A falling axe kick brought the body down onto the ground in a thundering crash. The kicked up dust soon settled down to reveal the battered body pushing itself off the ground.

Pyrrha staggered backwards from her recovery. Her eyes opened to revealed the irises fading back and fro between pitch black and her usual green.

"Please...I don't want to hurt anyone anymore..." The crimson-haired woman begged as she took several steps back, pressing herself against the wall behind her.

Her sobbing went ignored as the three males approaching, readying themselves to deliver some extremely punishing hits on the crying woman.

"Please...STOP!" A force of repulsive wave threw the three men back to the opposite side of the room. Pyrrha in turn turned her eyes on the attackers. The sclera in her eyes gleaming midnight black, whereas the irises glowed neon green.

The woman released a feral roar and charged forward, instantly tore off a head with a high kick to the bottom of the chin. With the first man down, she spun around and stomped forward at a shin, breaking the bones and tearing flesh. With a jump, Pyrrha threw a high knee into the face of the second man, completely caving the face into the skull. She then raised her foot high into the air and brought it down heavily. The impact of the axe kick forced the head through the middle of the man's shoulder blades, pushing even further down towards the pelvis.

Instinct kicked in again as Pyrrha cartwheeled out of a punch. Completing the manoeuvre, she charged forward, hooking the outstretched arm under her arm. With a twist of her entire body, the woman pulled the arm out of its socket. She then spun around, swinging the dismembered arm at the man head, throwing him onto the ground.

Without giving the man the chance to recover, Pyrrha had already brought her makeshift weapon down over and over again.

Finally snapping out of her trance, Pyrrha dropped the arm she was holding and back away fearfully. The colour of her eyes returned to their original colour. Cradling her head in panic, flows of tears escaped Pyrrha's eyes as she mumbled apology over and over again.

"Excellent, Spartan." A voice said from the speaker in a top corner of the room. "We're extremely pleased with the result. Keep up the good work."

Pyrrha, lost in her own world, ignored the voice as she retreated to a corner of the room. Dropping into a seat on the ground, the Spartan tucked her knees to her face and repeatedly mumbled her apology to no one.

"I'm sorry..."

Fantasy is written only by the livings

Lie Ren stood in the centre of the room, turning his lazy glance sideways. He himself was surrounded by at least a dozen of men dressed in black business suits. In front of him was another man, dressed albeit more differently from the rest, sitting on a couch in a slouched manner.

"So, Lie Ren, you mean to tell me you're leaving the job." The sitting male took in a took drag of the cigar clenched in his lips.

"I believe I have made myself quite clear, Boss." Ren replied nonchalantly with a smile. "I have something else which will pay me better."

"You do realise what it means to leave our family, don't you." The Boss' expression darkened.

"I understand my position very well." Ren maintained his smile.

"Then you should know what we do with deserters." The Boss clicked the fingers on his right hand together. In an instant, the men surrounding Ren pulled a weapon from each of his coat. "I hate to do this Ren. You're our best assassin. I cannot allow you to roam around my turf freely."

"I understand, Boss." Ren bowed with his smile

"Do it." The command ignited an instant result. The men converged to Ren, each wielding his weapon ready to tear the young man apart.

Ren lazily glanced around. Waiting for the last second when he suddenly moved in a blinding speed, striking a palm into the chest of the nearest attacker. A sharp channel of his Aura, the back of the man exploded outwards, raining blood onto the people behind him. A jumping roundhouse kick threw another man into the small group at the side.

Ren continued dodging attacks, his movement fluid as he weaved through rushing bodies like water. All the palm strikes delivered were soft taps. All hits were delivered at various spots of the body. Lie Ren looked as if he was dancing among the mad rush of people. People who soon dropped onto the floor like dead flies.

In a flash, Ren stood in front of the wide-eyed Boss, his smile maintained throughout the fight. "Is that all, Boss?"

"I knew it." The Boss drew a gun from within his coat, only for it to be kicked away. The Boss stared at his wrist which was bend in an unnatural angle. It took him several seconds to finally register the pain coursing through his entire arm. "Argh! Fuck!" He cradled his broken arm with a loud grunt. "You're our best assassin indeed, Jade Serpent."

"Thank you Boss, for taking care of me all this while." Ren raised a palm. "The Queen calls for me, and I trust that you speak none of these." The palm was brought down onto the Boss' chest.

The Boss's eyes widened before blood erupted from every orifices on his face. The man then slumped back onto the couched he had been sitting on.

Lie Ren backed away from the corpse, flicking blood from his sleeves as he turned to the door of the room. Stepping over lifeless bodies on his way out. The smiled widened a crack as his magenta irises seemed to glow in the darkening room.

"Because dead men tell no tales."

A/N: May not be as good as the previous oneshot, but I'm trying. Hope you enjoyed it. Reviews much appreciated.