I chewed off his fingers and sliced opened his heart. “Goodbye Peter.” I wrote a note and left.
That piece of music reminds me of his lifeless body lying on the cold, concrete slab. I grinned in malice and lathered the blood on my hands. I wipe the small hand dagger clean and place it under the floor boards of my house.
The rain gushed down and the mud outside of my house became damp. I put on a pair of jeans and carried the dead body outside, shirtless, shoeless. I licked my chapped lips and dumped the body of my good friend Charlie in the back of my truck. He’ll never be able to look down on me again. I return to my home and smile, I hear the yells and blood curling screams as I near my kitchen. I run my hands over the woman’s small shoulders and lick the side of her face, she struggles against the chains which are tying her down on my kitchen counter. Hm, not as tasty as the last girl. I coo to her that it’ll be okay and slit her throat. I take out my little hand dagger again and begin to chop out her tongue. I remove her eye balls and then chopped up the rest of her small body. That night, I sat down and had her for dinner.
My eyes drift along the television screen as the names and faces of evil men and women appear on the news. New Jersey has always been a mecca for crime. They’ll never find me. I change into a long sleeved black top, tight jeans and Macbeth shoes. I push back my long, black inky hair out of my face and head out to my daily job at the comic book store.
A young boy, around sixteen came in and picked up one of the Fringe comics. A pretty boy he was. I smiled at him and asked if he was okay. He had long black hair, multiple facial piercing and dark Gothic clothes. He reminded me a little of myself in my younger days. I heard Motley Crue blast from his earphones as he paid for his comics and left. I lingered home and ran my bath, Charlie’s blood shall do it. Many would look upon the like of me as sick and twisted minded. I can imagine worse words. Especially if they saw me in a blood bath.
Many of the human beings these days just don’t know how wrong and sinful they are. They need to be taught a lesson. I left my house later after and decide who my next victim shall be…
“Ah! Raymond! How lovely to see you-” I cut Peter off as I entered through his front door.
“Indeed, now let’s do this.”
We set down over dinner and talked about our child hood days. He was an old school friend of mine and was such a gluttonous pig. He rambled on and got drunker and drunker as the evening went. I walked into his kitchen and progressed to slice off my finger prints, I re-entered his dining room, lifted a butter knife and stood behind Pete.
“Lovely place you got here” I said as I laid my hand on his shoulder. He agreed. I pulled out his chair and gripped his neck.
“You’ve got some lovely eyes too” I smirked and looked deeply into them. He tried to talk and I held his throat tighter, I heard him choke and my eye’s danced. I carved out his eyes from his sockets and broke his nose. The smell was blood excited me. I sneer and lick the blood that was forming on his face. I let out a throaty laugh and continued to stab him repeatedly and drink his blood. I proceeded to slit my arm open. I then wrote ‘pig’ on his wall. I chewed off his fingers and sliced opened his heart. “Goodbye Peter.” I wrote a note and left.
Never in my life had I felt the craving for blood, my mouth was dry and all I had was myself, myself and only myself.
Deciding I was deliriously happy with myself, I headed home.
I trace the corners of the picture of my partner and I. He had died so soon, thanks to those disgusting ‘murders’ out there. They’re all full of sin, the whole lot of them. I kill for lust of blood, I kill for pleasure. But most importantly, I kill to make this stinking world, a better place.
I laughed along with Kat as I welcomed her into my home. I sat her down and offered her a glass of wine. She drank and drank and barely noticed I only took two sips of mine. She leaned closer to me and giggled. I put my hand behind her neck and lowered my head, I began biting on her neck and she then passed out, the pills have took affect. I continued to bite through her neck until her head was severed from her body. I coop her body in the spare guest room under the mattress and flop onto my bed. Why sleep when there’s so much to do in this world? Why sleep?
I could make a gallery, of all the bodies I have carved and marked. A beautiful gallery of humans. We die, it’s nature. No matter how natural it may be, we die. Joseph didn’t deserve to die, so I will carry on killing as I please, in cold-blooded revenge.