the sick accounts of a compulsive murderer
The darkened hours of April the 12th, when Aram was dreaming.
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A man was walking his dog, the air was thin, which made walking up and down the hills difficult. A rising mist was about him as the sun began to set. A very beautiful evening indeed. He put the music on from his Walkman, strolling to the beat of Depeche Mode. "Ah what the heck, I'll make it a little louder", thought the man. An quick and unnoticed hour went buy as the man was walking around the hill. His dog panting and yet still eager to press on.
Finally the time had come to make his last turn and head home. Silently behind was a man walking with quiet feet and slight of hand. The air was now brisk and the shorline mountain setting was making the night a quite unpleasant experience.
As our man was making his way up his driveway, his dog suddenly stopped and stood still. "Quickly, boy. Come on! Make haste, Im freezing."
The dog was frightfully still. Noticing this the man asked what was wrong. The dog began to bark violently at a nameless foe in the distance, turning its head from side to side scanning the scenery as it barked. The man could not hold the leash any longer, and gave up his reign and the dog sped off. Time went by with barking in the distance...Then silence. Scared the man ran to find his dog, but it was to no avail. The dog had been killed and buried long before the man had time enough to reach him. After long, the man put his head down and made for home. Unaware of the foe behind. The shadows began to move and the man noticed that he was not alone. His face fluttered, his blood turned cold and sweat trickled down his caramel forehead.
"Hello? Can I help you?"
Nothing.
Silence.
The silence grew louder and louder.
Slowly he made his way. All at once it came. His breath was stifled by a fine rope around his neck. His face turned red amid the chaos. The sight of death bacame nearer by the second. And finally, the struggle was over. His lifeless hands fell to his side and he fell to the ground amongst the withered leaves with a thud.
The killer wiped his nose. Took a deep breath, looked at his masterpiece and gave a salute of approval. Stepped way and made his way back to his car and sped off to the distance.
.
.
.
.
.
.
This my friends was a dream of mine for two years.
Not only that. If I didn't have this dream. It would be my friend slitting her wrists, in graphic detail. She died Three years ago, due to suicide. It has plagued me in my dreams ever since.
>
A man was walking his dog, the air was thin, which made walking up and down the hills difficult. A rising mist was about him as the sun began to set. A very beautiful evening indeed. He put the music on from his Walkman, strolling to the beat of Depeche Mode. "Ah what the heck, I'll make it a little louder", thought the man. An quick and unnoticed hour went buy as the man was walking around the hill. His dog panting and yet still eager to press on.
Finally the time had come to make his last turn and head home. Silently behind was a man walking with quiet feet and slight of hand. The air was now brisk and the shorline mountain setting was making the night a quite unpleasant experience.
As our man was making his way up his driveway, his dog suddenly stopped and stood still. "Quickly, boy. Come on! Make haste, Im freezing."
The dog was frightfully still. Noticing this the man asked what was wrong. The dog began to bark violently at a nameless foe in the distance, turning its head from side to side scanning the scenery as it barked. The man could not hold the leash any longer, and gave up his reign and the dog sped off. Time went by with barking in the distance...Then silence. Scared the man ran to find his dog, but it was to no avail. The dog had been killed and buried long before the man had time enough to reach him. After long, the man put his head down and made for home. Unaware of the foe behind. The shadows began to move and the man noticed that he was not alone. His face fluttered, his blood turned cold and sweat trickled down his caramel forehead.
"Hello? Can I help you?"
Nothing.
Silence.
The silence grew louder and louder.
Slowly he made his way. All at once it came. His breath was stifled by a fine rope around his neck. His face turned red amid the chaos. The sight of death bacame nearer by the second. And finally, the struggle was over. His lifeless hands fell to his side and he fell to the ground amongst the withered leaves with a thud.
The killer wiped his nose. Took a deep breath, looked at his masterpiece and gave a salute of approval. Stepped way and made his way back to his car and sped off to the distance.
.
.
.
.
.
.
This my friends was a dream of mine for two years.
Not only that. If I didn't have this dream. It would be my friend slitting her wrists, in graphic detail. She died Three years ago, due to suicide. It has plagued me in my dreams ever since.