Killer - SN fic - R
Title: Killer
Fandom: "Supernatural"
Disclaimer: not my characters. just for fun.
Warnings: AU for "The Benders"
Pairings: none
Rating: R
Wordcount: 490
Point of view: third
He killed a man last night.
It felt good. Better than good. Orgasmic. It felt like vindication. Salvation.
He’d say redemption, but he has nothing to be redeemed for.
Perhaps it’s good he feels guilt. Not for the killing, but for what’s happened since. Sadness. Devastation. Pain, unending and raw.
Killing didn’t bother him, not in the slightest. But it was the catalyst and now he can’t escape.
Now he can’t escape. A part of him doesn’t want to. Knows he deserves the pain in his soul, the blood that just keeps flowing. A part of him, the part that misses his old life, won’t let him forget.
He killed a man last night. He tore a man limb from limb, ripped him open and laughed when blood splattered on the wall. Pulled out the intestines and organs, juggled the heart, the liver, and the gallbladder.
Anything has the potential to become a monster. He knows that well.
He killed a man last night. He killed a man and howled with laughter.
He killed a man and his sons and his daughter. He killed them, played with them, deboned them like meat and burned their house down around their pieces.
He has no guilt, regret, or shame for what he did.
He’s never shied from killing humans, knew it might become necessary. Evil comes in all forms.
Killing them wasn’t necessary. Killing them wasn’t justice.
Killing them was revenge.
Killing them was fun.
And he’d do it again.
He’d do it again and never blink.
He warned them.
His whole life, he’s followed very few rules. But there was one he enforced every day. There was one he never turned aside from, never backed down from, one he followed and engraved into the world-it was simple, flawless, easy.
No one hurts Sammy.
No one at all.
Twenty-three years.
He warned them.
He warned them.
They didn’t listen. They laughed and broke the rule.
So he killed them without flinching. He killed them all.
And he doesn’t regret. He doesn’t.
He burns Sammy corpse, unmarked but for a hole in his heart. He burns Sammy’s corpse and he doesn’t cry. He burns Sammy’s corpse and waits until all the ashes blow away.
He doesn’t ask forgiveness. He doesn’t ask for absolution. He doesn’t say he’s sorry.
He has no tears. He has no words. He has nothing but rage. Everything else is swallowed by his rising fury, all the pain and regret and fear and love, everything he’s ever felt is consumed by his anger-
He killed Sammy’s killers. They paid for their mistake. But there are more out there, other things that deserve to be punished.
He waits until Sammy’s ashes blow away.
He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t make a sound.
His purpose shines bright before him.
He killed a man last night.
And all he feels is rage that he can’t kill that man again.
Fandom: "Supernatural"
Disclaimer: not my characters. just for fun.
Warnings: AU for "The Benders"
Pairings: none
Rating: R
Wordcount: 490
Point of view: third
He killed a man last night.
It felt good. Better than good. Orgasmic. It felt like vindication. Salvation.
He’d say redemption, but he has nothing to be redeemed for.
Perhaps it’s good he feels guilt. Not for the killing, but for what’s happened since. Sadness. Devastation. Pain, unending and raw.
Killing didn’t bother him, not in the slightest. But it was the catalyst and now he can’t escape.
Now he can’t escape. A part of him doesn’t want to. Knows he deserves the pain in his soul, the blood that just keeps flowing. A part of him, the part that misses his old life, won’t let him forget.
He killed a man last night. He tore a man limb from limb, ripped him open and laughed when blood splattered on the wall. Pulled out the intestines and organs, juggled the heart, the liver, and the gallbladder.
Anything has the potential to become a monster. He knows that well.
He killed a man last night. He killed a man and howled with laughter.
He killed a man and his sons and his daughter. He killed them, played with them, deboned them like meat and burned their house down around their pieces.
He has no guilt, regret, or shame for what he did.
He’s never shied from killing humans, knew it might become necessary. Evil comes in all forms.
Killing them wasn’t necessary. Killing them wasn’t justice.
Killing them was revenge.
Killing them was fun.
And he’d do it again.
He’d do it again and never blink.
He warned them.
His whole life, he’s followed very few rules. But there was one he enforced every day. There was one he never turned aside from, never backed down from, one he followed and engraved into the world-it was simple, flawless, easy.
No one hurts Sammy.
No one at all.
Twenty-three years.
He warned them.
He warned them.
They didn’t listen. They laughed and broke the rule.
So he killed them without flinching. He killed them all.
And he doesn’t regret. He doesn’t.
He burns Sammy corpse, unmarked but for a hole in his heart. He burns Sammy’s corpse and he doesn’t cry. He burns Sammy’s corpse and waits until all the ashes blow away.
He doesn’t ask forgiveness. He doesn’t ask for absolution. He doesn’t say he’s sorry.
He has no tears. He has no words. He has nothing but rage. Everything else is swallowed by his rising fury, all the pain and regret and fear and love, everything he’s ever felt is consumed by his anger-
He killed Sammy’s killers. They paid for their mistake. But there are more out there, other things that deserve to be punished.
He waits until Sammy’s ashes blow away.
He doesn’t say a word, doesn’t make a sound.
His purpose shines bright before him.
He killed a man last night.
And all he feels is rage that he can’t kill that man again.