two
WARNING ONCE AGAIN: THIS IS ALL WORK OF FICTION AND IS VERY EXPLICIT AND MAY OFFEND YOU. KNOW THAT UPON READING THIS, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED IN ADVANCE AND AGREED TO CONTINUE READING.
today i talked to a girl online for a few minutes. a very forced conversation on my behalf. the only thing i didnt tell her were the thoughts that ran through my mind. the main thought was only wanting to see her on her knees, giving me pleasure, and then giving her a facial. the other idea was to tie her down, and start cutting off her flesh, all the while letting her know how being such a stuck up bitch to those who were nothing but nice to her, got her into this situation. to continue peeling away her skin to see just how long it would take for her to finally die. instead, i simply close the message box and begin conversations with someone else.
i keep wanting to tell these girls about the one i had tracked down in new mexico whom i had talked to for aw hile, but that seemed to turn on me, as if the stupid bitch was too good for me. so for a few days i would drive over and find her, observing her daily routine. one day i finally walked up to her, and said hello. she first looked at me in confusion with a hint of fear. she was easy to pull her into my car at the time (which i had stolen from an elderly couple). after driving to an isolated area near a ditch, i tied her to the hood of the car and shoved a large ice hook deep into her stomach, which i had strapped to a long piece of rope that was anchored to a tree. i got into the car and put it slowly in reverse, watching the hook break her skin and pull out a few entrails that it had gotten ahold of, and i repeated this process until she stopped breathing (i believe it was due to the hook finally ripping out her lungs). all i had left to do was disposal of the body, though i simply left everything as it was, getting an erection at the thought of how horrified someone would be upon discovery of my work.
that night i went out with my friend cozzy, whom i want to share the details of my day with him, but my attention is gravitated to the fact that we had scored some of elpaso's finest cocaine. i already want to key some up, but he favors doing a line or two after a decent amount of alchohol. he is currently driving, and im in a rather hyper mood, so i lower the window to stick my head out, and start screaming at random people. i see two women walking down the street and scream out the question if they want to get raped. they both stare in either shock, horror, or confusion as we drive away, and supprisingly, they didnt flip me off.
"dude, what the fuck are you doing?" asks cozzy.
i was only able to respond with laughter. ive constantly been told that one of my laughs sounds like a villain's laugh, even said to be 'scary' and evil. he laughed in return "youre fuckin crazy." him saying this makes me laugh even more. i think i must be called crazy at least once a day.
same shit different day. the ritualisitic patterns i go through each morning. it has changed over the years but all together is familiar. it has just been harder to wake up lately, which has made me purposely miss my early classes just to experience more comfort by the pillow. it raises the possibility of failure, though i have been rather apathetic towards my education as of late. after waking up and getting out of bed, i normally decide on what i want to wear for the day. im always wearing something black, though even with a rather narrow variety im still indecisive. today i go for a black short sleeved dress shirt, made in hong kong with 100% cotton. i purchased the shirt at a local mall, i believe it was at dillards or j.c.penny, where i also had bought the long legged dickies shorts i decide to wear today (the shorts are black, of course, and extremely comfortable. as well as the fact that they cover more of my legs than normal shorts do. i dont like exposing my legs.) i put on black cotton socks i always get at journeys, which when first purchased are very soft, though i tend to wear them out until they are thin and rough. normally i would put on these eight eyes tall boots i have had for three years, but today i will be wearing my new h-predator -100 demonia boots which are twenty eyes tall, with two buckled straps on each calf (the right one includes a small pocket, perfect for holding my fold-in hunting blade) all with a thick zipper going from the arch of the foot to the top, both on the inside of each leg. i had gotten them at work for a good price which included the employee discount as well as the regular 25% off all shoes sale we are currently holding.
always feeling that im in a rush, i decide to skip breakfast and go to the bathroom to fix my hair. i turn on the faucet and duck my head beneath it, then comb out the excess water. then, applying a greedy handful of gel to slick it all back, which is topped off with a good amount of hairspray. i try to get full coverage with the spray to make sure that any part that does not have any gel in it would not dry and puff up. relatively pleased with my appearance, i put in my contacts. in goes the right one, then the left. after all this i brush my teeth, get my wallet, my pen (a favorite of mine, the uniball vision micro pen, which is smooth to write and draw with) my car keys, and then the watch my stepdad gave me the day i graduated highschool. ready for the day, i drive to the university. hopefully, no one does something on the road to piss me off. the last thing i need at the moment is to get into an altercation that would mess up the hair. its also hard to try and follow someone to their destination in order to smash their face in, when i have a class to attend. everyone better concider themselves lucky this morning.
© morfiend 2005
today i talked to a girl online for a few minutes. a very forced conversation on my behalf. the only thing i didnt tell her were the thoughts that ran through my mind. the main thought was only wanting to see her on her knees, giving me pleasure, and then giving her a facial. the other idea was to tie her down, and start cutting off her flesh, all the while letting her know how being such a stuck up bitch to those who were nothing but nice to her, got her into this situation. to continue peeling away her skin to see just how long it would take for her to finally die. instead, i simply close the message box and begin conversations with someone else.
i keep wanting to tell these girls about the one i had tracked down in new mexico whom i had talked to for aw hile, but that seemed to turn on me, as if the stupid bitch was too good for me. so for a few days i would drive over and find her, observing her daily routine. one day i finally walked up to her, and said hello. she first looked at me in confusion with a hint of fear. she was easy to pull her into my car at the time (which i had stolen from an elderly couple). after driving to an isolated area near a ditch, i tied her to the hood of the car and shoved a large ice hook deep into her stomach, which i had strapped to a long piece of rope that was anchored to a tree. i got into the car and put it slowly in reverse, watching the hook break her skin and pull out a few entrails that it had gotten ahold of, and i repeated this process until she stopped breathing (i believe it was due to the hook finally ripping out her lungs). all i had left to do was disposal of the body, though i simply left everything as it was, getting an erection at the thought of how horrified someone would be upon discovery of my work.
that night i went out with my friend cozzy, whom i want to share the details of my day with him, but my attention is gravitated to the fact that we had scored some of elpaso's finest cocaine. i already want to key some up, but he favors doing a line or two after a decent amount of alchohol. he is currently driving, and im in a rather hyper mood, so i lower the window to stick my head out, and start screaming at random people. i see two women walking down the street and scream out the question if they want to get raped. they both stare in either shock, horror, or confusion as we drive away, and supprisingly, they didnt flip me off.
"dude, what the fuck are you doing?" asks cozzy.
i was only able to respond with laughter. ive constantly been told that one of my laughs sounds like a villain's laugh, even said to be 'scary' and evil. he laughed in return "youre fuckin crazy." him saying this makes me laugh even more. i think i must be called crazy at least once a day.
same shit different day. the ritualisitic patterns i go through each morning. it has changed over the years but all together is familiar. it has just been harder to wake up lately, which has made me purposely miss my early classes just to experience more comfort by the pillow. it raises the possibility of failure, though i have been rather apathetic towards my education as of late. after waking up and getting out of bed, i normally decide on what i want to wear for the day. im always wearing something black, though even with a rather narrow variety im still indecisive. today i go for a black short sleeved dress shirt, made in hong kong with 100% cotton. i purchased the shirt at a local mall, i believe it was at dillards or j.c.penny, where i also had bought the long legged dickies shorts i decide to wear today (the shorts are black, of course, and extremely comfortable. as well as the fact that they cover more of my legs than normal shorts do. i dont like exposing my legs.) i put on black cotton socks i always get at journeys, which when first purchased are very soft, though i tend to wear them out until they are thin and rough. normally i would put on these eight eyes tall boots i have had for three years, but today i will be wearing my new h-predator -100 demonia boots which are twenty eyes tall, with two buckled straps on each calf (the right one includes a small pocket, perfect for holding my fold-in hunting blade) all with a thick zipper going from the arch of the foot to the top, both on the inside of each leg. i had gotten them at work for a good price which included the employee discount as well as the regular 25% off all shoes sale we are currently holding.
always feeling that im in a rush, i decide to skip breakfast and go to the bathroom to fix my hair. i turn on the faucet and duck my head beneath it, then comb out the excess water. then, applying a greedy handful of gel to slick it all back, which is topped off with a good amount of hairspray. i try to get full coverage with the spray to make sure that any part that does not have any gel in it would not dry and puff up. relatively pleased with my appearance, i put in my contacts. in goes the right one, then the left. after all this i brush my teeth, get my wallet, my pen (a favorite of mine, the uniball vision micro pen, which is smooth to write and draw with) my car keys, and then the watch my stepdad gave me the day i graduated highschool. ready for the day, i drive to the university. hopefully, no one does something on the road to piss me off. the last thing i need at the moment is to get into an altercation that would mess up the hair. its also hard to try and follow someone to their destination in order to smash their face in, when i have a class to attend. everyone better concider themselves lucky this morning.
© morfiend 2005