Reliable Insanity: The Voices In your Head
Chapter 1: Trust me
What is genocide by definition? 'To kill a few more than necessary', 'To not let live the ones that did nothing'. Maybe, just maybe the survivors couldn't hate you any less than the loved ones you did not spare? You're not crazy. Not at all, you have only your reliable insanity to count on. Enjoy it, bask in the rewards of giving each and every one of them what they had coming to them already. Just an early message, simple, blunt, straight to the shity end of the stick. Listen, Sarah, do you hear their screams, like a beautiful soothing lullaby to your ears. You won't have to imagine it anymore. You and I, no one else can be trusted, nobody. Stay with me now. Don't fall yet; you're just about to hit the top.
No. Stop. Too far. You're going to hurt yourself. Too late, you already did that. The thing that everyone would hate you for. The thing that has you coping for another way. Using all of you strength, depleting your energy. Making you pathetic, as you lie on the floor. Blood dripping from your elbow to the carpet. Another stain to explain. Ha, I could be you creative side too. Maybe sing you a tragedy. As you slowly put those sharp objects away, you realize you only needed a hug. Yea right, fuck that, you need a fucking grenade. Blow up this part of you, you don't need it.
You don't get it. It's not your fault. You have more important issues to attend to. Yes, make plans, they need to be made. Remade, and rechecked so you don't loose your head. Not that that would matter anyway. It's your goal to loose your head. Toss it into the air and forget you even had brains. They spilled out a long time ago. And you are nothing with out me. Nothing you can be, will be, or was. Nothing can stop us now. We are a force of nature. Not anyone is going to get in our way. Let them try though. It's very amusing to see how they squirm.
Don't forget to eat up today; you have a grand evening to attend to. So munch down on whatever you like. Hurry up and get ready for your big day. Get dressed. Whatever you want to wear, nothing too reveling though. You should start a load of laundry. Your clothes are to blood stained to ware around 'normal' people. Find something, anything, and some smell-good-spray to get that death cloud around you to go away. Try to crack a smile. Literally, crack it. You don't nee a face to be doing what you're doing. Maybe not any clothes, but for your own dignity Sarah, keep the clothes on.
Hey…it's me again, just to say hi and- what the fuck is this shit?! You being nice. I will not stand for this. You will not let everything you worked for now go to waste. You will not become causality. You must be strong, for the both of us, just a little longer. I will set you free; open you to a whole new world. Spin your fucking head off your shoulders. Watch as they fall, one by one by the hand of you. Creating pretty paintings upon the ground. Can you find a container? Keep the crimson liquid for later use. Like the taste of iron, do you now? Well would have expected that one coming anyway. You have no one but yourself. Us, me, alone with you. We can do wonders to this world. Trust me.
A/N: I just wrote this when I get bored, and I get sick and tired of the world around me.
I don't know if there will be another chap, because I rarely have time to myself. I apparently did when I wrote this. Don't want criticism don't want flames; don't care for reviews because I doubt that anyone will understand me anyway. Enjoy...or not