This wasn't where he wanted to be. I could tell by the horrified scowl on his face. His fists raised, clutching at my blood soaked ankle in a last act of defiance as I crushed his trachea. I took pleasure in hearing my victim's scream, drowning my ears with their agonized wails. I normally torture them make them yearn for death. But for a reason unclear to me I didn't want to hear this particular troll's voice, I couldn't tolerate it. It enraged me to no end, perhaps it was because I was once pale towards him. He was my equivalent of a friend. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a bad person. The lowblood brought this upon himself. To deceive me for so long, his crimes were unjustifiable. He deserved to have his filthy red blood smeared over every wall in his respiteblock so that he may never again turn away from it. So that it would haunt his nightmares every night he was in his recuperacoon.
Using a nail on my maceball bat I tore into his dreary grey flesh, staining the concrete beneath him with his blood. I slowly rose from his corpse and stepped away from it. And for a second I just stared at him. Studying every detail, every bit of him that made him... Him. I trailed my eyes from the tangled curls on his head to the tips of his shoes, before settling on the gash I had made in his bicep and the bright red liquid oozing out of it. It was so obnoxious, so wrong. I couldn't stand it. As I stood there, gazing upon his nearly flawless form I became furious. My blood boiled inside my veins. I couldn't see clearly anymore, the world around me tinted in an almost blueish color through tears of rage. I clutched at my maceball bat, gripping it firmly with both hands and raising it high above my head. Not aiming at any particular area I brought it down on him with all my strength. Blood splatter flew in all directions, painting the surrounding walls and moistening my face. Placing my foot near where my bat had landed I ripped it from his chest, bent nails pulling on his skin till it split. I wasted no time in lifting my bat and pummeled him with it again, this time aiming for his softer, less boney, stomach region and was rewarded with the satisfying sound of skin tearing.
I lost track of how many times I had hit him, his skin was hanging in mere strands. I don't think I really cared at the moment either. I was so happy, so.. High. I felt better than I had in sweeps as his blood sprayed off my bat in a wide arch as I readied myself to bring it down on him again. And again. And again. With one last beating I threw my maceball bat at the drenched wall beside us and fell to my knees. I lowered my face to look down at his battered corpse. I slowly reached out my hands, cupping them once they were close to him; I dipped them into the gaping hole I had torn through his chest and brought his fiery blood to my lips, swallowing it all in a single mouthful. I dug into the crevice again, filling my hands with his blood. I splashed it onto myself, as if washing my face in the morning. It was surely just as refreshing. If not more.
