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A Quick Kill

"Fuck, it's cold", the smallest of the three youths said, hugging himself and pulling his beanie back over his head as far as he could.

"Y'don't fucking say, really?! Shut up already, ya wuss"

"Here... got a toy", the largest of the three said, subtly nodding towards an approaching raptor - his hood up as he hurried towards the nearby college. "That prick looks easy"

---

Paul jogged towards college through a rougher neighbourhood, using it as a shortcut, since he was already late for his first lecture of the day. Despite the exertion and the hoody he wore, the teenager was uncomfortably cold as he hurried through the crisp autumn air. He was just moving past a trio of younger students from the local high school when one leapt sideways and shoved him over.

He landed heavily and awkwardly, tumbling to a stop on the hard ground.

"Hey, watch where the hell yer going!" one of the youths shouted at Paul as he struggled to stand up.

"Sorry, but you kinda jumped out at me, man. What gives?"

"Don't you fucking talk to me like that!" the largest of the group said, grabbing Paul be the front of his hoody and pushing him backwards and down a nearby alley. "You crash into us like that, you gonna pay for it, fag!"

"Get yer hands off me! What the fu-!"

Paul's words ended with a grunt as a swift knee landed in his chest, quickly winding the raptor. As he curled over, another kick landed to the side of his head, sending him crashing into the wall and ground. Blows began to rain down on him as the gang of three laid into his cowering form. He could feel blood filling his mouth and an unnatural ache from his ribs. The beating, though savage, did not last long. The youths began jeering him and spitting on him as he watched from a curled up ball on the floor at their feet.

"Let's fucking end this. You get his stuff, I'll cuff'em" the largest thug said, seizing the wrists of the prone raptor and binding them behind his back with a length of discarded cable. Paul was forced onto his feet as the other two quickly emptied his pockets of his wallet and phone, one using the time to scratch along his dick with sharp claws, causing Paul to cry out in shock and pain.

He was lead further down the alley towards the other end of the block. The alley opened onto an old basketball court - little more than a metal rim on a pole in the space between buildings. It served the high school on the block as a place for P.E. and to spend lunch, but was abandoned this early in the morning.

The smallest thug pulled out a thick nylon rope, probably stolen from a building site, and deftly fashioned it into a noose. Paul struggled as the cord was placed over his head, earning him another sucker punch and a kick to the groin. As he fell to the floor, more blows rained down from his captors. His face was ground into the dirty concrete by the sole of the largest member of the gang, the dirty foot leaving a dark footprint on the raptor's scales. Paul, semi-conscious after the multiple head blows, was glad he couldn't smell the foot through the blood pooling in his possibly broken nose.

A warm trickle of water landed on Paul's face, causing him to shut his eyes and squirm reflexively to avoid drowning. He quickly realised his tormentor was pissing on him. With that grim thought, Paul's resolve broken and tears began to fall between his closed eyelids. The metallic clangs of a trash can being placed beside him frightened the crying raptor, but he only opened his eyes when he was pulled onto his feet.

Paul stood beneath the basketball hoop, the nylon noose around his neck now strung over the metal back of the hoop. The two smaller thugs began pulling on the rope, raising Paul off his feet. As his legs kicked and swung, he found purchase on the trashcan - precarious, but all that stood between him and hanging.

"Please... please, you can't do this. I- I'll get you money, whatever, please. Please you- you can't!"

"Aww... look at the lil' baby beggin' for his life", the smallest thug said, a large grin spreading on his face as he held the rope. The two thugs tied the rope off around a supporting brace and moved to stand beside the camera-holder.

"Fucking baby. Gotta film this shit" the largest member said, taking out his smart phone and pointing it at the raptor as he begged for his life. "Look alive, fag! Smile for the camera!"

"PLEASE! HELP! HEL-ch"

Paul's cries were cut off as the smallest lizard kicked the trash can out from under his feet. The raptor fell slightly before jerking to a sudden halt, the nylon digging into the scales around his neck. His legs kicked futilely, his body struggling to find anything to take the weight off his neck. His mouth hung ajar, his eyes wide with terror as he pulled on the cable around his hands to free them - but all was in vain. All three looked on, laughing and pointing, as the raptor's struggles began to lose their power - his body slowing as the throbbing pressure built in his head and his muscles cramped from lack of oxygen. His feet kept kicking as his arms fell limp and his eyes began to glaze over. Blood leaked from his open mouth - the sight of a few teeth recently knocked loose visible from the ground by the way the noose forced his head downwards. His tongue flexed as he tried to gulp in air (or beg for his life). His tail and toes curled as his body began to spasm as it died. His twitching legs began to sag as his muscles ran out of oxygen - the slack allowing his bladder to empty. The dark patch quickly spread down his pants and started to drip onto his feet, running down to his toe tips and dripping onto the ground beneath him. His tongue had bloated and turned a definite shade of blue, as it hung out of his open mouth lifeless and limp - the final strand of blood and saliva dripping from it and soaking into his soiled hoody.

The thugs looked on; their latest victim dead in broad daylight, less than a hundred yards from where they should be in school and less than a mile from the college lecture he would never attend again.

"Well, that was some fun. Fucker's drooling on hisself."

"That's what babies do. Couldn't even kick his way free, the fag."

"Just like a fag to wet his pants when scared. Jeez, can't even handle a hanging without losing it. Wimp. Wonder if he's even packing much"

The smallest lizard approached the now still raptor and pulled down the pair of piss-drenched jeans, as well as the tight fitting briefs underneath them. He revealed a rather meagre, limp cock.

"Fucker's got a baby dick! No wonder he died so quick."

"Bloody hell... don't think we saw a prick that small. Fucking toothpick he got there."

"That's what he gets for not respecting us. Move outta the way, gotta get that tiny worm in the vid. Fucking deserved to die, no way yer makin' kids with that thing."

"I'm hungry. Where we gonna eat?"

"Don't know. Fish out his wallet, see what he can afford"

After a quick retrieval of the cash in the dead raptor's wallet, the trio simply walked away - the youngest member once again complaining about the cold weather while the other two kept their eyes open for more fun. The sight of a freshly killed victim wasn't entertaining anymore, the deathly expressions no longer holding any novelty with the group. They left their latest target hanging, pants pulled down and still damp. The eldest (and de facto leader) was already saving the video in the "special" folder on his phone.

They regularly watched their video collection. It was one of their prefered forms of entertainment to pass the time between hits. Nearly all teenagers in the ghetto had some blood on their hands. The exploits gave them enough income to live by and the thrill of a kill was something cold-blooded predators lived for - something they couldn't stand to miss.

On their weekend meetups around the basketball courts, they would exchange their weekly videos and boast about their 'handiwork'. The teenagers were running a contest - the group who had the most brutal kill on video would win the most respect.

Everybody, except Paul, knew that it is not a good idea to walk near the ghetto of the lizards. While the adults were mostly involved in drug dealing and would only killing if necessary (or if stiffed on a deal), the teenagers would sometimes just killing for fun.