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Story Notes:

New round robin...new rules. Everyone's welcome to participate.

1. In every submission, Nick MUST kill a fan. That's the point of this LOL.
2. Editing rule still applies, watch your grammar and such. Anything unreadable/incomprehensible will get deleted.
3. Please no deleting anything, we learned from 1000 Ways, didn't we? Just ask me (Rose) to do it LOL.
4. Label each chapter correctly, like Chapter One would be "Kill #1" and then the title of your submission.
5. The last line MUST be some variation of "*number of kill here* down, so many more to go".
6. Once someone on the list below is killed, pick someone else on the list. If you do not wish to be killed twice you have to let us know, or we'll assume it's okay.
7. Keep Nick a human (yet immortal since he survived "1000 Ways" lol) Backstreet Boy. Just for the sake of continuity :)
I'll update as people die LOL.

Have fun!

Real Fans Who Have Given Us The Okay To Kill Them:
Rose - dead
Julie (RokofAges75) - dead
Sarah (starbeamz2) - dead
Steph (Carter-Orange) - dead
Tracy (DelphinaCarter) - dead (twice, can't be killed again)
Mare - dead
Lore (PurpuraLipstick) - dead
Marguerite (catseye66) - dead
Sagar (sagar_k) - dead
Rachel (Kentuckychickrk)
Jen (FrickFrackGirl) - dead
Chris (carterkid)
Vanessa (Howies Girl)
Karin (twofaced)
Erika (kevmylove) - dead
Michelle (michxxblc )
Ritz (Alexsgirl_ritz)
Steph (Sakabelle) - dead

Kill #1 – Boys Will Be Boys

A young girl, only in her late twenties was sighing as she began her work for that day. It felt a bit tragic, having to perform this autopsy. Still, she had to do her job right? Not to mention, as perverted as it sounded, it would answer a few lingering questions as she eyed the corpse lying still on the metal table in front of her. To anyone else, it would be morbid to turn on the radio. But for Alyssa, she’d long become immune to it.

Music began to play, and she simply smiled as she pulled the sheet off the body. She stared down into the face of Nickolas Gene Carter, undoubtedly the most famous member of the Backstreet Boys. He was still flat out gorgeous, even in death. She never admitted aloud to any of her friends, since they had all ditched their fandoms for the group back when they were teens, but she always had a huge crush on him. She kept up with the group every chance she had, and even owned Nick’s solo album, released just before his untimely demise.

His death had been splashed across the cover of every magazine. How could it not be? The trick was that they weren’t quite sure what killed him. It was at this fair, and according to his band mates who had witnessed the incident, he’d just dropped to the floor, dead as a doornail.

A new song began to play, it was a mix CD she’d made some time ago; she forgot exactly what tracks were on it. Still, the song that followed was a bit ironic. She sang along, softly, as she reached for her scalpel blade.

Boys will be boys…hey…” She sang to herself as she glanced around for it. “You’ve got something so incredible in my eyes…my heart starts pumping, whenever you’re around...

When her back was turned, the eyes shot open. Nick’s gaze skipped around the room, trying to figure out exactly where he was. It didn’t take long to make the connection. He was in the morgue yet again. It was always like this. Somehow, someway, he would be killed again and again. Each time more horrific than the last. A day later he would wake up, sneak out of the morgue, or swim his way to shore from the ocean. Basically he had to find his way back from wherever he'd been killed. People who he knew saw him die, would have forgotten about it completely. It never made any sense.

He was tired of the pain.

He was tired of the suffering.

He was so tired of the dying.

Nick lay there on the table, suddenly furious at his fate. Why was this happening to him? Was this some twisted price he had to pay? Because of how blessed his life was, before this started happening? His life wasn’t like this once. He wasn’t some strange fluke that kept rising from the dead as if it never happened. Before he was famous, he was normal. The singing of the coroner caught his attention before he could follow that line of thought any further.

I hear you saying, that you think that we should waaiiiiit…” She sang happily. He rose in a flash, rushing at the woman and slamming her against the wall. Her eyes widened in shock, lit up by fear as he gripped her shoulders tightly, keeping her pinned. It was the fans’ fault. That was a fact. How he knew that, he wasn’t sure. But he knew.

“You’re…you’re dead!”

Nick smirked. What if he killed the fans? One by one, just like he was killed. Maybe then, it would stop. And even if it didn’t stop, Nick figured he’d have some fun along the way. So many girls to kill, so many bodies to leave in his wake.

“I ain’t one to listen. You know how it is, boys will be boys.”

Maybe she knew what was coming; maybe she sensed it from the look in his eyes. She began to whimper. “No, no please…”

He reached for her scalpel, and swiftly slit her throat. Blood splattered across the wall, on his clothes, and ran from her neck freely. Her hands weakly reached for her throat as she choked and sputtered. Soon enough, her body fell limp and he tossed it on the floor. He laughed as he stared down at her body, blood still pooling around it on the ground.

“One down…so many, many more to go.”