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DamnGlitch

[story] A Moment Through the Eyes of a Psycho

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I kill.

 

I do it every day.

 

Some fucker gets in front of me and I, feeling a bit peckish, decide it would be a larf to separate his head from his shoulders.

 

He wouldn't mind. He wouldn't have a chance to.

 

 

I fondle too.

 

It a way to pass the time.

 

I come across an attractive young lady and I, feeling a bit peckish, take it upon myself to reach over a pinch her bottom.

 

She jumps and blushes because, in all my glory, how could one help but blush? I give an exaggerated bow, tip my nonexistent hat to her, and go on my way.

 

 

I work, in my own way.

 

You could say I'm my own boss.

 

There's slob at the strip club tonight. He's been getting too close to the girls. The girls are afraid of him, but at the same time, they are afraid to tell me about him. They are afraid of what I might do to him.

 

They should be. He leaves on his own, and I retire, making sure to tell Ruby to stay the fuck out of my room tonight. Instead of bed I head to the window, and hop out from the second story of the tit-bar. The man hasn't gone far, I can smell him from here. My sense of smell hasn't been augmented, either.

 

I grab him from behind and lift him up by his arm pits. It a fluid motion I flip my hands onto his shoulders and slam him down hard (but not as hard as I can) on my extended knee. His bones in that region all shatter and make sounds like some sort of disgusting symphony.

 

Before he can bleed crotch blood on me, before he can even register what has happened and scream, I pull my knee away, extending it as far behind myself as I can without falling over and send it rushing forward into his unprotected spine.

 

The delicate bones disintegrate under my tutoring and the waste of human flesh is bent in half backwards from the middle of his torso.

 

The damage isn't so bad that he would die. Not nearly. In fact, this is one of the few times I don't want my target to die. He has done wrong to someone close to me and for that I refuse to give him the solace of death.

 

At the same time, I know I can't let him free, to target me and the girls. An idea hits me, and I pull my left 'hand' forward. I clench the metal, razor sharp fingers together menacingly.

 

First, I slice roughly through his ears, before jamming the point as far in as I can without hitting brain. Assured of his deafness, I continue on to his tongue, which I cut off and drop into his own (soiled) underpants. Aware that the blood-loss might kill him unattended, I pull out my beam sabre and, no thanks to his thrashing, manage to cauterize the wound.

 

The smell of melted flesh fills the air.

 

Both his hands are stomped on until they are destroyed and useless, less he use them to write out what has happened to him.

 

It is only his luck that I, being made not a man but an "it", cannot urinate on his face as a send off. I end up settling for slamming his head into the pavement until his nose is broken and he has lost consciousness before calling the police and returning the the strip club. Luckily for me, I managed to keep all of that thing's blood off of me, so I don't have to change before returning so as not to worry the girls.

 

 

The fact that these acts of cruelty do not phase me is disturbing only to those around me. I continue on, as if this is how I had always been. In the back of my mind, hidden, I know the truth is far different. Something deep inside tells me that it was not always like this, but in what capacity I cannot comprehend.

 

With Ruby gone for the night, I end up bribing one of the blond haired women into my bed. We do nothing, not that I could. Not the I would, for that matter, if I could. For some reason I care the least for the blonds. Something about them, something familiar, fills me with an apprehension that precludes me from wanting to be in their company.

 

But, following the activities of the night, I am in need of a warm body to share my bed and I take what I can.

 

It is her first time and she is nervous. I envelope her in my arms (having switched out the metal prosthetic) and suck some of the warmth off of her. Her nervousness does not affect me, and soon I am asleep.

 

 

I awake the next day to find more of the same.

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