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#Post#: 218--------------------------------------------------
Four-Score
By: Dmitri Date: October 13, 2012, 5:00 pm
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Four-Score
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I am a monster. I am a killer. And I am happy. I am one of this
country’s most notorious serial killers, and oh boy, how it
feels to be famous. This society is already decaying, I simply
want to help, and here in this city of Dys, this city of sin, I
am just another face to blend in with.
Dys is amazing. Anything I want, I can have. Gambling, woman,
booze, drugs. Nothing is too much. I guess I shouldn’t be
surprised. They say this is the country’s most corrupt city.
Eventually, fire and brimstone shall fall upon this place many
say. It’s a load of shit.
I take a drink from my bottle of alcohol and I continue to
watch the strippers dance in front of me. I shift my eyes from
the stripping sluts to the attractive waitress taking an order a
few tables down from me. Her silky brown hair falls down her
back and her guiltless green eyes reek of innocence. I smile to
myself. She clocks out in ten minutes. Afterwards, she takes the
back way out to her car parked across the street. I know what
I’m going to do.
She is going to leave the bar, but before she gets to her car,
I will come up behind her, pressing my seven inch knife against
her throat. Next I will push her onto the hood of the car and I
will do to her what no man could ever dream of. I grin. I’m
going to fuck her, and then kill her. No one will miss her. The
cops won’t even look into her case. I win.
The time comes and she goes into the back room. I take my cue
and leave the bar. I wince as the cold air hits my face, the
wind blowing softly against the jungle of concrete and steel. I
gaze at the skyscrapers in the distance. Oh how I wish I could
party with the top dogs up there.
My day dreaming of heroin orgies is cut short when I hear the
door open beside me. I lean back, bathing myself in shadows. She
walks forward, her steps softly echoing off of the lifeless
concrete. She passes me, oblivious to my existence. I follow
her, silent as the shadow of death.
She opens her purse, fishing out her keys. I quietly pull out
my knife. When I am just inches from her, she spins around, pain
erupting from my eye. I reel back, grabbing onto the small
object protruding from my face. Her key. I hold my left eye,
blood pouring from it and drenching my hand. With my good eye, I
see her take a step toward me.
She lifts her leg and kicks me in the chest, sending me reeling
against the wall on the far end. My body hits the bricks with a
loud BANG, my bones snapping and skull splitting in two. I groan
in pain.
She bends over, scoops up my knife, and walks toward me slowly.
Unnaturally slow. She stands before me, playfully spinning my
knife and smiling a smile that fills me with fear. Before I
could react, she grabs my right hand and, in one swift motion,
sends my thumb flying. I want to cry out, but I can’t. I’m
paralyzed. Carefully, she saws off each of my fingers, creating
bloody stumps out my hands. She trails my blade down my chest,
down my stomach, and to my groin.
“You won’t be hurting anyone anymore, now will you?” she asks
sweetly, her voice soft and melodic.
I can’t help but to nod my head. I have no idea who or what she
is. I’m afraid.
“You chose the wrong girl tonight, but don’t worry, it won’t
happen again,” she playfully says with a wink. With a quick,
painful motion, my manhood is gone.
A single tear escapes me. She sees it and laughs. A beautiful,
haunting laugh. I see the glint of the blade as a blue neon
lights hits it. She slides the blade up to my remaining eye. She
grins, her face the last thing I see before she plunges it
forward. The world before me, pitch black.
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