April FOOLS day! kisses. m.
Song of the day: Taken for a fool - Strokes
Killing Changes You.
(4-1-09)
“I could get used to this!” was what I thought as I slit his throat with my sharp knife.
The
precise blade slid ever so delicately through and through his skin
without the slightest bit of hesitation. Blood spilled down his chest
blanketing the white button-down shirt in a dark crimson red. I was
feeling very much like Hannibal Lecter when I licked the blade clean of
his blood. Slowly, as I continue to clean my blade, I watch his body
melt into the pool of red liquid on the wooden floor before me. You know
what they say, the first time is all it takes to become addicted.
Killing
changes you. Once you’ve committed the unspeakable act there’s no
turning back. Funny thing was, I knew from that moment on, I was hooked.
Who would be my next victim? See after all, this wasn’t planned. It was
an opportunity. I seized it! The thrill of taking a life had always
been on the top of my “DO NOT SHARE” list. You know that list of dark
sadistic things that you just don’t share. Everyone has one, but you
don’t speak of it.
I
had to wait, like a predator stalking my prey. Watching… waiting...
wanting… until just the right… moment. Perhaps this is how Jack the
Ripper felt as he chose his victims? And who would catch me? I would be
leaving the country in a matter of days. No one would be shocked if I
never returned. No one could blame me for walking away from my dead end
job, my artistic failure. Again, they might miss him? Doubtful, I
surprised him. He wasn’t scheduled to return from his trip for a few
more days. You know the type, workaholic, and no next of kin. Only
leaves the house for the office and returns back promptly each day. The
cleaning lady was the only person who would find the body, and she
wouldn’t be returning until Monday. But again, my darkness consumes me
and the wheels start to spin.
How
many ways can you dispose of a body? Too many! Too FUN! Just as I’m
dreaming up new, sick and twisted ways to make a body disappear… BAM! “I
guess he wasn’t dead after all,” are my thoughts as I’m falling quick,
looking up at this bastard holding his throat with one hand and a large
blunt object in the other. I’m Out.
I
often wondered what it would be like to be tortured. Today I find out.
I’m bound (hands & feet) and gagged. He’s sewn up his neck wound and
licking the knife – there’s blood – while I have to watch. “See, I
guess two can play this game,” he says. It’s my blood… apparently he’s
cut me, ten places I can visibly see in my arms and legs. But from what I
can feel there are several more than that.
“You
should have made sure I was dead!” With a sick sadistic smile he edges
closer to me. “Cause you’ll never leave here now.” He grabs my neck,
kneels down and slides the blade down my left cheek. I can feel the
blood spill out, downward, as it mixes with my tears. “I haven’t had
this much fun in a long time,” he whispers in my ear.
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