Wednesday, 30 November 2011

Party Time

I became lackadaisical. I let down my guard, let pride overtake me, and for this I failed. The Shady Lady escaped. This is on my shoulders.
Since then, my hatred has festered. Forced to hobble like a degenerate cripple, I could not search for victims. I could not fulfill my purpose. Even as I recovered, I could have gone into a town and killed every single person. No hunting. No torture. Just hobble in with a gun, a machete and a tank of gasoline. Shot the men, strangled the women, mutilated the children, burned the houses.
At least I wanted to.
The party was only slightly pleasant to me. It allowed me to vent, but it was only like releasing steam from a nuclear reactor by jabbing it with a toothpick. Kill. Slash. Burn. Rip. Tear. So on so forth.
The party. Have to think of the party (skin's itching, doesn't normally itch). When I entered the warehouse, I was greeted by a room full of limbs. Mannequin limbs. On the walls, on the floor, sticking in various directions, assembled together. Bodies... taken apart and made into a beast... I gazed upon them. Perhaps too long. I recall the Advocate speaking over the intercom, but for the life of me I can't recall what he said. I think he realized that I was not moving at his preferred pace, as one of the figures exploded in front of me.
Shrapnel cut through my skin and my flesh, red flowed out upon red. I'm not surprised no one noticed the wounds, but then again why should they have? I'm losing it. Need to stop scratching. It's bleeding. Eugh.
I looked upon where Advocate had tried to hide a camera: within a mass of limbs. Looking was enough. The other forms exploded around me, forcing me to escape into a room of darkness.
I stopped and waited. One of them would cross through, and then I would make it bleed. I would cut into it as it screamed and writhed in my grip, whining as I slashed it and squeezed the life from its body.
A voice. Two voices. Shady and another. The scent of a woman mixing with the eternal stench of my blood. concentrate concentrate. Not Josie. Too... mature. Level. Josie would have been flying about like a hummingbird or whimpering like a rat. Dia. It had to be Dia.
I could slash one of them, leaving the other to hear her screams in the darkness. Back off, let their minds play tricks on them before going again, inflicting a deeper cut. Let the screams turn to cries for help, tears for each other's wounds. Kill one first, then slowly slice the other's head off her neck.
No. I couldn't. The Advocate had traps. If I killed them in defiance to his rules he would do his very best to kill me. It would take too long to segue out of the building. His traps could easily be lethal before I escaped.
So I approached them. I let Dia know what she had brought upon herself. I let her know what she had started. I let her imagine how painful her end would be. So much better than telling. They always know what they deserve. Always think think keep focused can't stop needs to be done eventually
Back. I let both of them have a little show. To my delight they separated. It would have been perfect if I could have trailed one of them and forced her screaming into one of Advocate's traps. Again and again until nothing was left except the part of her I gripped.
The next room was a furnace. The heat began to rise, so I left.
The little girl Josie began following me. Two years my senior and still a little girl. She fumbled, she could not keep silent as she tried in vain to stalk me. She thought she was being clever. I could have turned around, caught her before she could even turn. I would have put my thumbs in her mouth and torn out her cheeks. Thrown her to the ground and stomped on her forehead until it caved.
We moved through rooms. None were important. None were clever. None topped the first.
A beast made from the flesh of others doomed to live in pain and suffering stop stop it stop you are killing yourself stop it
Finally, reached the entrance to the room. "Josie." I said before entering.
I talked briefly to Graves. She left. The building exploded. Dia was on the ground. Burning was too good for her, so I dragged her meat through the rubble. No easy ways out for anyone.
And then Shady. Messages are important, so I made mine. I plunged my blade into the same spot she had driven hers. I twisted and bent it in the wound of my leg. No pauses this time. No recovery. I will kill while hobbling if need be. I will hunt and bleed at the same time.
When I knew she had learned her lesson I left.
14 bodies have been added since then.


  1. I'm inclined not to pity you. You've killed some good people.

    But I think I'd prefer you didn't wind up killing yourself from something as mundane as picking at your wounds. Take better care of yourself, hm?

  2. You know, I'd have preferred you to have left me. Whether someone else would have saved me or not, the thought of owing YOU is rather fucking horrifying. The death threats make you a pain in the ass, just by themselves.