Hey guys. Welcome to the new smiling Cindy.
The non creepypasta. I swear I'm so happy to be writing the new version. It's so much better.

Anyway proceed my little killjoys.

✂.........................................................

"That's a big knife for a little girl" he stalked me, thinking I was easy pray. My, the things that I'll do to him.
"Then I guess you'll be surprised when you see what I can do with it"
My body stood half way to meeting him, I turned the rest of the way to face him. Here we stood in the middle of an ally way, I guess I still have a few more to kill tonight. I was already caked in blood, wouldn't hurt to spill some more.
I took off my mask that only covered the bottom half of my face. It was the only thing I had to cover the horrific smile across my face.
Mere terror rose in the man's face as he saw the devils work of art. He studdered the Christs name before making a making a run for it.
"I love it when they run" I laughed.
I ran after him, I quickly caught up. This guy was just too easy to catch, it's like he's never ran in his whole life. I can't take the joyful pleasure of savering this kill this time. His death had to be quick but I counted 60 times that I stabbed him in all of his major organs in alphabetical order before his pathetic life faded away.
"Another rapist down" I breathed. Praising myself for my marvelous work.

It's my job to rid the world of the bad people. Killers, pedophiles, bullies. Basically the people that make this world wretched.
I don't get paid for it, it's more of a personal job. For fun.

This all started when I was 16, the me killing people.
but the whole story of it all began with my mother.
My mother was into some really crazy shit. She used to own one of those really cool stores with the incenscents and the crystals and other cool shit. Anyway as harmless as those stores are, there's always a dark whicked side to it. The place for witches. That's where my mother got caught up, her mind was poisoned by all this spiritual shit and her curiosity caused her to wonder about the dead, which we all know that leads to demons.

She performed rituals in her own greed and she always got what she wanted, but one thing.
Finally one day, her prayers were answered we she summoned a demon to give her the divine gift of power. Immortality.
But, by every demon out there. She had to pay.
So that crazy bitch bid in her first born child.
Yay that's me!

But when I was born, she actually was played by the demon, the demon was in me and not her, yes. She gave birth to a demon.
So after that card was drawn she gave up the hockus pockus thing and turned her hateful attention to me.
How she got a husband? I don't know. But he's a asshole too.

Mum always had her eye on me, burning me to the core of how much she hated me. Dad was actually my only hope in a parent but one day that all changed.

I was ten. I had been fighting with my mother for hours, she cursed that she never wanted to see me again. I stood there startled and crying. I had no idea why she hated me or why she would say such awful things to me. She had tried to kill me before, but someone would always stop her. But in this case, there was no one to save me.
She got mad at me for skipping school, the kids were being mean to me because I was disadvantaged in education.
She stood in the kitchen, while I stood in the doorway of the dining room.
She picked up a knife from the cutting board, I remember hearing the metallic screech of the blade dragging against the counter.
My eyes grew wide as she threw it at me.
I ducked the wrong way but the knife barely missed me anyway.
"You little brat!" She yelled with a clenched jaw.

I began to hyperventilate. My bare eyes watching her frustration build. She grabbed another knife and threw it, this time I only flinched, and the knife hit me by its handle, by then she had thrown another and impaled itself into my left shoulder.
I gasped at the sight of it, fresh tears welled up in my eyes as I panicked.
I couldn't feel the pain but I felt the cold blade adjusting inside as blood began to spill out on to my sweater.
My mothers scream made me focus my attention back to her, she was running at me with another knife in her hand, rised high and ready to strike.
I ducked down as she launched herself at me, tumbling us both over. The knife in my shoulder impaled itself deeper as I hit the ground, I rolled myself face up. By now I can definitely feel it.
The agony pulsed through me and winded me. I grasped around the wound, hoping to stop the bleeding, to stop the pain.
Before I realized, mother had used this time to her advantage and pinned me down. Sitting on top of me to restrict me of any movement.
A whicked smile played on her face as she readied to plunge the knife into my chest.
My first instinct was to scream. Finally letting out the pain and the fear.
Mother covered my mouth, blocking off my oxygen supply.
"Shut up!"
I frailed and clawed at her hand and her arm. She never winced or budged, just looked down at me, looking me straight in the eye. Mentally reading herself, to kill her own daughter.

Out of mere panic, I grabbed the knife in my shoulder. For a second I saw pure hesitation in her eyes, but that quickly faded as she striked. In that vague moment I pulled the knife out half way, screaming on the process. I suddenly had an advantage and I took it. I bit her hand, sinking my teeth in so deep it drew blood.
She backed out and yanked her hand away from me. The knife her once had in her hand dropped from my chest, it only just pierced the skin. Blood pooled around the area of the new wound.
I inhaled deeply, finally getting air, and I forced my self to pull the rest of the blade out of my shoulder. I clenched my teeth together, not daring to make a sound.
"You little bitch!" Mother slapped me across the face and pounced at me again, going straight for my throat, and I went for hers, slicing her throat clean open. Blood gashed out and created a pool around her and she stared at me wide eyed.
I bickered a studder, trying to call out to her as tears welled up a threatened to fall down my already stained checks.

And then it happened, she died. Right in front of me, by my own hands.
Father shortly came home and the police not long after.
It was classified as self defense, but I murdered her.
Father hated me ever since then. Not dramatically like mother, but I've never seen him smile since then.

And that's also when I stopped smiling.