Judgment day.
Look it! It's me, r' old pall Smile! Lovely seein' ya again! And here's a lovely fic about death!
The blade bled its master's blood as the edge wedged into his flesh, sinking into the tender skin like an impaling screw searching for bone. Mental pain out stood the physical, shielding it away for later release when punishment was needed. For death was the only answer now, wasn't it?
Johnny C. released the knife from the flesh of his arm, letting the thick crimson liquid that had once surfaced through his veins drip to the floor. The shadows buried him in the night, the dim silver stars planted across the sky vague and formless. He watched the blood seep into the mud as his dark eyes pulsed through his skull, causing them to burn like they appeared to show. No one, especially Devi, would notice he was gone. Returning the knife back to the casing lodged among his spine, he arose from where he had lost his blood; watching his sleeping companions as they dreamt of the fight they would soon confront. The sooner he killed himself, the better, no matter how slow the process. For it didn't make any sense for a someone like him to stay in this world.
Nny jerked back as the cold liquid trickled slowly down his arm, jettisoning a howl of cold voices among his body.
Damn world.
Damn Mr. Fuck.
Damn Psycho D-boy.
Damn assholys.
Damn life.
He could do nothing but sigh in regret as the curses hung.
For, wasn't life really like dripping blood? You escape from the veins of your ancestors, and begin the fall till you plummet to your death; go to hell, in which you once again swim through the veins of your ancestors. Was the world just a repeating cycle of life and death? Sure people have thought of how the world could become over populated, but have they ever wondered if the dead could become over populated?
And as the knife sliced off his skin.
He would never know.
Well now, that was it! Now review fuckers!!
Smile
12-15-02
11: 34 AM
Look it! It's me, r' old pall Smile! Lovely seein' ya again! And here's a lovely fic about death!
The blade bled its master's blood as the edge wedged into his flesh, sinking into the tender skin like an impaling screw searching for bone. Mental pain out stood the physical, shielding it away for later release when punishment was needed. For death was the only answer now, wasn't it?
Johnny C. released the knife from the flesh of his arm, letting the thick crimson liquid that had once surfaced through his veins drip to the floor. The shadows buried him in the night, the dim silver stars planted across the sky vague and formless. He watched the blood seep into the mud as his dark eyes pulsed through his skull, causing them to burn like they appeared to show. No one, especially Devi, would notice he was gone. Returning the knife back to the casing lodged among his spine, he arose from where he had lost his blood; watching his sleeping companions as they dreamt of the fight they would soon confront. The sooner he killed himself, the better, no matter how slow the process. For it didn't make any sense for a someone like him to stay in this world.
Nny jerked back as the cold liquid trickled slowly down his arm, jettisoning a howl of cold voices among his body.
Damn world.
Damn Mr. Fuck.
Damn Psycho D-boy.
Damn assholys.
Damn life.
He could do nothing but sigh in regret as the curses hung.
For, wasn't life really like dripping blood? You escape from the veins of your ancestors, and begin the fall till you plummet to your death; go to hell, in which you once again swim through the veins of your ancestors. Was the world just a repeating cycle of life and death? Sure people have thought of how the world could become over populated, but have they ever wondered if the dead could become over populated?
And as the knife sliced off his skin.
He would never know.
Well now, that was it! Now review fuckers!!
Smile
12-15-02
11: 34 AM