I hate you. I hate all of you useless fucks. Just die already!
Her pocket knife slammed one final time against the crude straw doll, tears staining her cheeks like blood against pure white cloth. That would do it. Yes it would. Limbs becoming numb from stress; she allowed her body to slump against the wall as she gazed down upon her handiwork. Perhaps this would be the time. Perhaps this would be what broke her moral fiber as she readied herself for the real thing.
...
No. It wasn't. More of the blood-tears seeped down her face, exposing the pain and the hate. She would never break; she would never give. No matter how ready she thought she was, she could never do it. True blood would never be spilled by her hand.
...
What a pity. The voice coursed her veins. Where did that come from?
Kill them. How?
Just like the doll. Think of them as the doll. Doll...
Project the hate onto them... let go. It's easy. Easy...
Like laughing. It's fun. Let me show you. Ok... show me.
Who are you?
I'm Marik. Would you like to be friends?
