In my personal opinion one of the most beautiful and fulfilling things in this world, is watching a persons eyes as their soul slowly fades away.
You probably don't know this, but I will be looking into your eyes soon.
One thing you do know is I killed your friend. As you may know I shot them through the lung, it was quite fulfilling, and enjoyable watching their life fade away as you panicked.
One thing I do not enjoy, is when people attempt to find and watch me. You have upset me greatly, putting the word out that you are looking for me.
You shouldn't look for me, because I might end up finding you. It's not safe to look for a person like me; people like me do bad things.
I like your family, I've begun watching them as well, and your son he is quite good at soccer. It would be a shame if something were to happen to his legs. You have a very lovely wife, what if tragedy struck, and she was no longer pretty? Enough about them for now, why do you wear a bullet proof vest now? It makes me sad that I can't use my beautiful rifle, she is lusting for your life, and now I can't give it to her. *Runs a sharpener across the black blade of a ka-bar* don't you just love knives? They are beautiful instruments of death, they allow you to be close to the mark, and watch as their soul fades away from their body, and you get to feel them losing the grip on life. You might be careful with your nice little vest, but you're not very observant.
I've walked past you 3 times this week; I could have easily slid my knife into your abdomen. I sat behind you at your sons soccer, game *smiles* don't worry I haven't forgotten about your son, imagine how your son would have felt if I cut your throat while you were stuffing your mouth with that hotdog. I was even there when you took your wife to the movies and dinner. You have poor taste, in movies and restaurants, but im sure you spend more money on your mistress, oh yes I know about her as well.
I noticed your wife packing today, her car is gone but you are still home. Are you alone right now? I'm sure you think it's better for them to not be in the house, while you are looking for me. Maybe I should go looking for them to teach you a lesson. Maybe I should spare your life, and take theirs. *runs the sharpening stone across the blade* Maybe I should take your sons Achilles tendon, and your wife's nose. Will stop looking for me then? I wait for your wife and son to get in the car and leave. You kissed your wife and told her everything would be fine, not to worry.
You closed the door with that smug smile on your fat face. You begin to fight for your life as I wrap an arm around your throat and put a cloth over your mouth. The police later told your wife it was chemical called chloroform, inhaling this substance caused you to lose consciousness. They also told her they found a piece of paper that read:
You lost sight of those you love; I hope you learned your lesson.
You awoke in the hospital, a few days later. Your wife and son were there, crying, while waiting for you to wake up. No, I didn't kill them, but I did take what you loved about them away. You will never see your son play soccer again, and you will never see how beautiful your wife is again. I took your eyes from you. The police would later tell you they found your eyes, in your son's fish tank. Poetic really, swimming with the fishes. Maybe now you will learn, to never look for me, because I just might find you. |
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Very creepy. The thought of having that happen to try and stick up for one of my friends... I bet you would actually do it! |
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Again! Like friggin' Hitchcock. Scary, yet somehow addictive. |
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Wait, there's another joke here. Talk about having your father's eyes. |
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I dunno,I think being close enough to your victime when you kill them so that you can inhale their last breath is quite the thrill...but then again that is what therapy is for. |
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Very well told, and scary to think how you manage to create such chilling tales. |
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what do you smoke? I sure could use some seems like good stuff. |
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She grins menacingly before throwing a wink at Premier.
"You've always had a knack for such . . . poetry." |
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I could have mistook that wonderful story for a shakspearian tale.
Brave sir Bravo! |
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this is some scary walt disney on heroin and acid type shit, mang
you should write a novel |
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