Warning: This work has been rated 16+ for violence and mature content.
I know I’m insane; I have always known it. I love it. People stare at me and whisper, but I only smile, they will never know how much fun it is. They say my mind is dark and my heart is bitter and made of stone, and it's true.
“Fetch him a straightjacket,” they exclaim.
“Call the doctor,” my mother says.
No doctor can save me, I’m too far along. My therapist says that these feelings will pass that Ill be okay after a bit counseling. It's idiotic to think everything can be fixed with a few crying sessions and a bottle of pills. That's the way it's always been. If there's something wrong with you, they shove them down your throat until your body is nothing, but a shell of your former self. You think humans kill people? No, the real killers are those tiny blue and red capsules you swallow every morning. My family thinks I'm a killer, I won’t lie I’ve thought about slicing them up.
I often cut myself to see how much I bleed, feeling the blood run down my arm gives me a rush. Just imagine the feeling I would get if I could make another bleed. I’ve come close to doing it, there are so many people in this world, I'd be doing a favor. I'd be releasing them from the cruel world we live in. Think about it, you’d be walking down the street, just a few minutes before midnight, while I trail behind you unknowingly. I’m so quiet as I watch you from afar, waiting, listening. I wait for the fear to strike you as you realize there are extra footsteps. Of course, you speed up, but really? what good will that do? you're already dead. I know you probably wanna scream, but its so late who's gonna hear you?
My voices are telling me to hurry, they keep yelling at me to do it already, but I don’t want to kill you quickly. where's the fun in that?
I’m getting closer, I hold back my laughter as I reach out to you, grabbing your arm. You fall and stare at me with pure horror in your eyes. I like that. You scream, why are you screaming? No one can hear, Here let me scream with you. I find it funny how we humans respond this way as if screaming will always save you, even when you're alone. the voices get louder, so loud that it drowns out the sounds of the night.
“Hurry up and kill them,” my voices urge.
“This is what you wanted right?”
I shut my eyes tightly and wait for the voices to die down, you look up at me, with a mouth wide and teary face. I must obey the voices. Your eyes widen as you watch me pull out a knife, you let out a scream, but we can't have that. No not anymore, besides we're all alone out here just me and you. I open your mouth wide, you shudder as I press the blade on your tongue. I wait a moment, soaking in the soft sobbing. I place the tip of the blade on your tongue this makes more tears fall from your face. I add more pressure, breaking the skin and bringing blood to the surface. Blood drops to the ground. Your eyes are shut tight, but really it can't be that bad, not yet of course. We haven't even started the fun yet. I can't wait any longer it's just not enough blood yet. With one swift movement, I slice your tongue off, blood gushes from your face. with wide eyes, you stare, covering your mouth. What good will that do? the blood will just spill over. Unable to speak, you let out a few whimpers as you scoot away. Your gurgling something, perhaps to say help. I admire your perseverance, but no one will come, not until in the morning that is. Someone will walk down the street and discover your mangled body. Soon there's a full-scale investigation, there's gonna be news segments and headlines. No one will care really why should they? It's gonna happen again and again. So you don't have to worry someone WILL come.
It's not over yet, I still haven't gotten that full rush yet. Grabbing you by the shirt, I drag you. there's a trail of blood, but I don’t care. I stop in an alley and throw you against the wall.
“What will you do now?” the voices ask.
I grin. What will I do? there are so many ways to kill a man. You're so close to death already with all that blood falling from your mouth. You can barely stay up. But, you can’t die yet not when we are having so much fun. I pull the knife out again and ran my fingers down the smooth medal then twirled it in my hands.
¨Where should I stab you? Maybe in the neck, but it's to cliche. ¨
¨I could stab you in the thigh, that would allow you to bleed to death, but it's SO messy¨
I smile as I bring the blade to your face.
¨I know, right here. ¨
I place the tip on your cheek.
Slowly and gingerly I began to carve my name into the delicate skin. The blade cut easily into the pink flesh. You let out a few whimpers, but I Ignore them and continue my work. I put the knife away and stare at you. The crimson words dripped with fresh blood. You look back at me with puffy watery eyes, you don’t have much time left, you're slipping quickly. I could just leave you, but the voices won't let me.
“Finish them off,"
I listen for a long time until the voices once again stop, Gripping the knife in hand, I stare at you. This is the only way I’ll satisfy them. I slowly slide my hand up your shirt, your skin is still warm despite the cold air, It felt nice under my palm. I keep my hand there for a while letting it absorbed the heat. I know how tired you must be right now, so let's make this quick and easy. Don't worry it's not what you think, what I'm about to do is far worse than ¨having my way¨, but you can be the judge of that.
I cut into you easily, the skin tore away exposing the muscle, it ripped and shredded. Watching the flesh tear away was almost mesmerizing. Deep red blood hurried from the wound, leaving a river of fluids. Blood splattered over my shoes and shirt, my CLEAN shirt. With one final cut, your guts spill to the ground. I puncture something. The blood sprayed out this time almost like a geyser. I know death is really close now, I can feel him breathing down my neck, just waiting to collect you.
¨this may pinch a little, ¨ I whisper
I ram my hands into your body. The heat was almost overwhelming. Your eyes are getting heavy, its okay go ahead and close them. I carefully wiggle my arm up into your chest. I bet you can guess what I'm looking for. I can feel its rapid beating already. I've always wanted to rip someone's heart out. I've seen people do it so many times on tv as a kid, it's probably why I'm so fucked up. I Finally reach it, you wince in pain as I squeeze it tightly. It's odd how you're still holding on to life, in reality, you should already be dead. I suddenly rip it out, I could hear the echoes of your flesh ripping and the bones snapping. The red organ pulsated in my hand and slowly diminished as I clenched it tight.
You could say I'm psychotic, but I like to say I'm creative. This world is a canvas and you are my masterpiece. Death is beautiful if you think about it, It's sad that we cannot see it. We, humans, die in such extraordinary ways. Thank god there are people like me who can see the world how it really is. So bitter. So dirty. That's why we leave our works of art around so that you can see real elegance, even though you don't sympathize with it.