Carving, aRewarding
Hobby
Hobby
Stitch is my street name, ‘cause I like to cut people, who need stitching. Sometimes I leave them barely alive but so disfigured that they would be better off dead. Their suffering gives me a thrill. I’m a psychopathic killer.
Some jerk offed me. Maybe he got his kicks that way. One thing about being so called crazy is that I see the world different. I see those parts that keep the world turning, but you guys have never heard of them. You normies can’t see them, the spirit world maybe obscure to you, but not to me. I know this unearthly place and I’ve managed to escape several times.
When people die, they go back to the agency for an overhaul and a reissue. We newly dead and preborn mingle for a while, exchange some information or talents. The preborn go out and the newly dead become preborn. I’ve escaped several times. This time I was too anxious. There was someone I just had to kill in the worst way. She said I had a tiny dick and I wasn’t a real man. So I jumped an unborn and took a quick ride out.
Now the administrators at the agency didn’t catch me. That is I didn’t think they caught me until I was born. I had nine months to plan the killing. It would be a slow torture and near the end she would beg me to kill her, or maybe not. If she craved death I would deny her. I would find a basement and duct tape her to the wall. Then cut off one of her fingers with the axe, quickly stuff it in her mouth and do a quick duct tape so the finger stayed in her mouth, bleeding. I stuffed her toes up her cunt, the other fingers up her ass one at a time. The horror on her face is so luscious.
What!
I was being born and when they handed me to my Mother, I screamed. It was my arch enemy! The woman I had sworn to kill was now my Mother! My anger boiled over with a passion I didn’t know was possible. When they put me to nurse, I bit her tit as hard as I could, then continued to scream.
They had to put me in a special nursery, so my screams would not disturb the other patients. The diagnosis was severe autism. I was locked in a cement room with bars on the windows. The spirits came to taunt me. The only way out was to bash my head against the concrete floor. I lost consciousness several times only to hear their laughter again. Finally I heard nothing.
Some jerk offed me. Maybe he got his kicks that way. One thing about being so called crazy is that I see the world different. I see those parts that keep the world turning, but you guys have never heard of them. You normies can’t see them, the spirit world maybe obscure to you, but not to me. I know this unearthly place and I’ve managed to escape several times.
When people die, they go back to the agency for an overhaul and a reissue. We newly dead and preborn mingle for a while, exchange some information or talents. The preborn go out and the newly dead become preborn. I’ve escaped several times. This time I was too anxious. There was someone I just had to kill in the worst way. She said I had a tiny dick and I wasn’t a real man. So I jumped an unborn and took a quick ride out.
Now the administrators at the agency didn’t catch me. That is I didn’t think they caught me until I was born. I had nine months to plan the killing. It would be a slow torture and near the end she would beg me to kill her, or maybe not. If she craved death I would deny her. I would find a basement and duct tape her to the wall. Then cut off one of her fingers with the axe, quickly stuff it in her mouth and do a quick duct tape so the finger stayed in her mouth, bleeding. I stuffed her toes up her cunt, the other fingers up her ass one at a time. The horror on her face is so luscious.
What!
I was being born and when they handed me to my Mother, I screamed. It was my arch enemy! The woman I had sworn to kill was now my Mother! My anger boiled over with a passion I didn’t know was possible. When they put me to nurse, I bit her tit as hard as I could, then continued to scream.
They had to put me in a special nursery, so my screams would not disturb the other patients. The diagnosis was severe autism. I was locked in a cement room with bars on the windows
. The spirits came to taunt me. The only way out was to bash my head against the concrete floor. I lost consciousness several times only to hear their laughter again. Finally I heard nothing.First published: November, 2013
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