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 Abysmal Tale Number Seven: The Cycle Continues.

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Posts : 259
Join date : 2009-08-07
Age : 36
Location : South Dakota

PostSubject: Abysmal Tale Number Seven: The Cycle Continues.   Thu Aug 20, 2009 4:09 am

Even the most normal people can hide dark and terrible secrets, but audience we already know this very well, what happens when the law meets the secrets?

This is a story I like to call, The Cycle Continues.

I gaze into the stillness of the wall, that white and overly normal wall. Why is it white I sometimes ask myself, why not something else, anything else at all? It is just a wall, and like me it will not give out its secrets. Well I did give them out to you once before. You did not listen. You did not heed my warning and now because you did not, my endless and terrible cycle continues.

The next one you are taking responsibility for, her blood that yet remains in her veins will be on your hands. You could have stopped me, you could have made it all go away with a simple search and you did nothing. Now you must face the consequences and better yet you must watch them. Indeed the hunter of the innocent is rising again. Now, let us begin our decent into hell together shall we? Excellent. I am glad you agree.

I will not repeat of the things you already know of me. If you wish to know more of me all you must do is read my first confession, most of you already have so I will move on from this point. Let’s skip to the present situation. The place where I live is frozen in sheer terror. A monster stalks the streets, and the night clubs. Business is slowing down and everybody is suffering. I am quite proud of myself for ruining the days of the mindless ones, what they will ever do without their constant source of mind numbing entertainment; personally I don't care and now neither do you.

Call it arrogance or perhaps madness. But again I go to my hunting grounds. The sun has set in the sky and the earth grows dark, the night calls to my blood and the flesh of the unbroken screams to my senses, begs for me to simply snap them in half. The monster inside me wants to be reckless; the humanity in me is dead. It is only the desire that holds me back, tells me to take my time and enjoy the process I listen to my desire quite often.

I dress in semi bright colors. This will attract the attention of the people I want to see me. The undercover cops will never have a clue of what I really am underneath this skin of mine, although not many people do. You do however. I have mentioned all of this before. Ah, there it is. The rage, the cold, the hate for all living people on the planet rises in me once again. And it feels good.

Tonight I make my way to the so called safest club in town. I must remember to thank the news for telling me where the best chance would be to find a target would be. It has a name. Names are unimportant and useless in my mind. Entering the place is easy; they are looking for the average psychopathic guy. You know the type. That guy who lives next door to you is most likely the guy those cops are looking for, but not me. I am invisible once again and I slip past the front doors with ease.

The wasteland of the human soul, welcome back to it. The flesh entraps the soul, and it is my job to free it. I am a hunter, still a predator of the highest order to be sure. I am not alone here though. I am being watched. Not by design or intention. The police are almost as good as I am, almost. Their undercover female officers are easy to spot. Often times you can catch them talking to themselves, reporting in to some backup close by. Too easy to spot, too tempting to pass up the chance.

One of them has been drinking. You wonder how I know this. Well, you see while you were stuck in between the space of the paragraphs, I had already got acquainted with the officer and I had convinced her to accept a drink. I am very convincing when I need to be and this time would be no different. Not wanting to blow her cover she had no real choice. It was almost closing time anyway; she does not seem to mind. Oh, that’s right you again want to know what your victim looks like. You need a face to your responsibility.

She is at least six foot tall, has to be. Her skin is tan and her clothes show off her figure, but does not suggest much more. She wants to be a target for me. Well she got her wish. I gaze into her bright blue eyes and I make her forget where she is, and what she is doing. Domination of the will is an easy thing do to once you have had some practice at it. Believe me I have had plenty and sure she tried to resist my charm, her inner most thoughts ran wild, and she gave in. Trust me, she was beautiful and I was going to take her home.

This is the woman you can only dream about and my dreams came true more often than not. You know the drill by now, people. Hook, line and sinker I have her completely entranced by my words, and my confidence. And then it comes. Closing time at last has arrived and everybody knows what this means. She finally admits what she is and does. I act surprised and impressed. She reports that she is going home to the people listening outside the club. This will be the last time she is heard from again.

You find it kind of hard to believe that an undercover cop would blow her cover for me? Don't sweat it if she thinks, or you get her to think that love is in the air, they will tell you almost anything if you are really good at it. Time seems to go by much faster now, and before she knows it we are at my place again. Her mind races and her intoxicated blood is on fire, she is more than willing to do anything at this point. I can tell.

This one gets no special treatment from me. I lead her straight to my room. It is clean. I have a special hate for the law and their kind, my rage is no longer controllable at this point, and I unleash my fury on to her, she thinks it is an act at first. But by the time she is chained up, her amusement turns into terror and she demands to be free. Ironic. A cop asking to be set free, oh I wonder how many people were locked away because of this one. No, there will be no freedom for you. Or mercy.

Clothes are an issue not to be dealt with in a special fashion. I use the tools the devil gave me, my hands. The material of the shirt is weak, I grab on to it. As if it were paper it tears off of her body. I am more than strong enough to finish the job. It only takes a minute, maybe longer due to her constant squirming and protesting, and yes even screaming at me.

Her hate is delicious, even addicting. Defiance is something I usually never see. It is always the begging and the pleading, and that crying, always there is that? This one will be fun I think, don't you. What happens from this point on is your fault audience. You might as well enjoy it.

The woman is furious, she curses my name. When I smile and tell her that it is somebody else's fault she screams even more in her hate her body tenses. I can see every muscle contract and twist underneath of her skin and I think to myself that that is no good I want to see it happen. I retrieve that special blade, twisted and sharp. Of course I don't let her see it. I enjoy the struggle.

I take the blade and immediately I thrust it into the bottom of her foot. In the middle of that perfect arch. That blood comes like a river just begging to be freed. And so do her screams of sudden pain. You have never seen a woman scream like that until you have torn open her foot, impaled it actually. Her entire body twists, it is beautiful, also much unfinished.

She starts screaming at me. Saying words I just know you want to hear. I won’t let you hear them. You get to suffer too. I ignored them anyway. I am not sure what hurts worse. The impaling of the foot, or when the blade is torn out. I may never know. The screams were equal. This one is really making me mad, audience.

That blade moves to her ample breasts, you see. This flesh is soft and easy to damage. I know this but it never hurts to remind you. Don't watch if you don't want to. But the blood is still on your hands. That blade slips into that soft flesh. Despite her looking strong on the outside. This body is weak and does not seem to be able to last much longer. I do not wish to remove the features of the woman. No. I wish to simply watch her bleed from there. And she does. That blood covers the blade and flows out and down to my hands, it is warm, and sticky too. I leave the blade inside of her, but it is more than past time to finish this one. Cops deserve a special death, original. No but special all the same.

In the corner of this room is a spike, a very long one about seven feet long at least. I pick it up and it makes a small ting like noise as I do so. Everybody knows that sound of metal. She can still see me; I want her to see me. I want her to see the death that you are taking credit for, and by now still watching in horror, or some kind of sick enjoyment. Perhaps we are not so different some of you may understand. Any way getting to the point of the matter we shall continue.

There are no words now. I level the spike out and decide to end it. She deserves this, the voices you never raised demand blood, so blood there will be to appease the invisible masses. I place that metal spike between her legs, it touches nothing. I don't even need to watch to know what I am doing either. I smile and she screams her last and final scream. It was getting annoying anyway. I thrust that spike inside of her. At first it meets hardly any resistance. In the split second there is. It is hard to tell the difference between pain and pleasure. I don't care, nor do I stop. That iron spike continues its death plunge into her body. It never takes long after this, something vital is hit and the body stops moving.

This one was messy, and my rage had taken over too quickly. It was the first one that had not begged, ever and the victory seemed hollow. I would have to remember to go after the common women like I always had before.

The cop was there, dead and impaled like you willed her to be. Now how does it feel to be like me, how does it feel to kill another living person? This one was for you. I hope you enjoyed it audience. Now if you don't mind. I need to go clean up and get something to eat. Murder makes me hungry, I never understood why.

Now the world knows nobody is safe from us!
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Abysmal Tale Number Seven: The Cycle Continues.
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