I opened the gateway to hell and saw my father laying there. Helpless. His face was
sweating and limbs looks limp. His right arm was swollen up to two times it's
original size. It was all black and bubbling. It looked like his arm was caught on fire.
It all originated from his finger. It was time for his punishment.
I walked up to him. grabbed his belt and wacked him across his face. "How do you
like it?" I asked him. I slapped him five more times with the belt. "it's fun to hit me
but is it fun to be hit?" I stood on his chest and started to stamp. I knew I brok a
couple if ribs. I heard and felt them crack. "Your helpless now! Just like I was" I
slapped him two more times across the face, harder than ever. By now his face was
red, bruised and bloody. Just like my face was from the time I was 7 to now.
I got off his chest and took out my knife. I slit his check. Not deep enough to make
a scar but deep enough for it to hurt like hell. "It hurts doesn't it. It would hurt more
if it was your finger," I slit one big slit going up his finger "or you dick." I ripped
open his pant and did the same.
He tried not to scream but I could tell he was in pain. His eyes started to water. But
he tried not to let it show.
"Now what if it was cut off? Wouldn't that hurt just a little bit more?" I started with
his pinky finger. Sliced that off easily. Then moved to the ring finger. A little bit
harder. The middle was hard because of his pudgy fingers. Then his index. I took a
while to do that. Just so he could feel my pain. Then the thumb was really hard. It
was incredibly fat and had a huge bone. I moved to the other hand and did the same.
I chuckled. Now he was fingerless and unlike me, couldn't regrow it.
I made one big slice down his chest. Just enough to make him bleed. I went to his
dick and started to do it while giving him a speech.
"You know, you said that I shouldn't have children. But look at you. You had one
of the worst child around. I mean at the age of six, stealing and being brought home
by the cops. You should've gotten rid of me then. You should've killed me then.
And after that. Getting brought home by cops almost every week. I would've
snapped. I would've killed me. But no, you thought beating would straighten me
out. Just made me worse. I got into drugs at the age of 10. Buying, selling, smoking.
When you found out was a good time. But no, you thought I could be like those kids
on t.v. Those kids who go to jail for a week and come back good. That only gave
me a peek at my future. And I didn't even find it that bad. Then at the age of 12 I
stole a car. Where I learned to drive. I didn't. That's probably why I crashed it into
a corner store. All of this for money for drugs. And that same year I failed a grade,
you should've killed me then. Then the constant sneaking outs to do god knows
what. That brings me back to this. I showed him my finger. When you did this you
should've finished the job. Then you took away my manhood. Well I'll tell you
what. Thanks to a trick I figured out," I pulled down my pants to reveal a regrown
dick. He was in too much shock and pain to react. I finished it. I sliced the last bit of
thread left. I laughed and shoved it in his mouth.
I striped down naked and began to change. "Thanks to this I was able to regrow my
lost finger and dick." I focused hard and was now aware of the changes on the
inside. I felt my bones crunching and my guts squirming. It didn't hurt. It was juts
kind of far off pain.
When I was finally a duplicate of Rascal I lunged at his throat. I bite and chewed. I
chewed away at his jugular until he was dead.
I had my first taste of blood that day.
sweating and limbs looks limp. His right arm was swollen up to two times it's
original size. It was all black and bubbling. It looked like his arm was caught on fire.
It all originated from his finger. It was time for his punishment.
I walked up to him. grabbed his belt and wacked him across his face. "How do you
like it?" I asked him. I slapped him five more times with the belt. "it's fun to hit me
but is it fun to be hit?" I stood on his chest and started to stamp. I knew I brok a
couple if ribs. I heard and felt them crack. "Your helpless now! Just like I was" I
slapped him two more times across the face, harder than ever. By now his face was
red, bruised and bloody. Just like my face was from the time I was 7 to now.
I got off his chest and took out my knife. I slit his check. Not deep enough to make
a scar but deep enough for it to hurt like hell. "It hurts doesn't it. It would hurt more
if it was your finger," I slit one big slit going up his finger "or you dick." I ripped
open his pant and did the same.
He tried not to scream but I could tell he was in pain. His eyes started to water. But
he tried not to let it show.
"Now what if it was cut off? Wouldn't that hurt just a little bit more?" I started with
his pinky finger. Sliced that off easily. Then moved to the ring finger. A little bit
harder. The middle was hard because of his pudgy fingers. Then his index. I took a
while to do that. Just so he could feel my pain. Then the thumb was really hard. It
was incredibly fat and had a huge bone. I moved to the other hand and did the same.
I chuckled. Now he was fingerless and unlike me, couldn't regrow it.
I made one big slice down his chest. Just enough to make him bleed. I went to his
dick and started to do it while giving him a speech.
"You know, you said that I shouldn't have children. But look at you. You had one
of the worst child around. I mean at the age of six, stealing and being brought home
by the cops. You should've gotten rid of me then. You should've killed me then.
And after that. Getting brought home by cops almost every week. I would've
snapped. I would've killed me. But no, you thought beating would straighten me
out. Just made me worse. I got into drugs at the age of 10. Buying, selling, smoking.
When you found out was a good time. But no, you thought I could be like those kids
on t.v. Those kids who go to jail for a week and come back good. That only gave
me a peek at my future. And I didn't even find it that bad. Then at the age of 12 I
stole a car. Where I learned to drive. I didn't. That's probably why I crashed it into
a corner store. All of this for money for drugs. And that same year I failed a grade,
you should've killed me then. Then the constant sneaking outs to do god knows
what. That brings me back to this. I showed him my finger. When you did this you
should've finished the job. Then you took away my manhood. Well I'll tell you
what. Thanks to a trick I figured out," I pulled down my pants to reveal a regrown
dick. He was in too much shock and pain to react. I finished it. I sliced the last bit of
thread left. I laughed and shoved it in his mouth.
I striped down naked and began to change. "Thanks to this I was able to regrow my
lost finger and dick." I focused hard and was now aware of the changes on the
inside. I felt my bones crunching and my guts squirming. It didn't hurt. It was juts
kind of far off pain.
When I was finally a duplicate of Rascal I lunged at his throat. I bite and chewed. I
chewed away at his jugular until he was dead.
I had my first taste of blood that day.