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Sumo Nova

Tomorrow’s Another Day

by sumo nova

I am a monster. What I’ve been doing for the past 3 weeks is the stuff nightmares are made of.

The blade that lies in my hand is rusty and covered in blood. Whose blood is it? Fuck if I
Know. I’ve killed so many people that this blood could be numerous helpless victims.

My stomach is growling. I have a hunger for some fried chicken so I get up from my mess of a bed and grab my wallet. I place the blade in my back pocket and head out.

I walk out of Captain Seymour’s Chicken Shack with a bag full of greasy goodness. I can’t wait to get home and devour them like a lion on a zebra. But then I see something. An overweight man with greasy hair and T-shirt walking out of the shack. I fucking hate fat people.

The Man begins to walks down the street, near an alley. The Perfect area. With no one looking I run up behind the man. I grab him quickly and throw his lard ass in the alley.

He yells at me, calling me a “Dumbshit” I take out my blade and slash it across his face. He yells at me again, the same word, over and over again. I pick him up and slam him against the wall. I jam my blade into his stomach, turning it oh so slowly so he can feel it inside him.

I put my hand over his mouth to stop the screams. I pull the knife out. I see a rock on the ground and begin to bash his face in, over and over again. His teeth begin to fall out of his mouth and his face begins to look far from human.

I stop bashing his face in, realizing he is dead. I put the blade back in my pocket and leave the alley. I’m surprised no one heard what I was doing. I’m becoming too careless. Maybe I want to be caught? Maybe I want them to find all those bodies are buried throughout the city and find out a monster is living among them. A monster who would take a life away just so he can have the thrill of watching a human being expire from this planet.

I walk into my apartment and set the bucket of chicken on the table. I grab a wing out and jam it into my pie hole and begin to munch on it like an angry mouse. I then see the lady across the street from me coming home from a late night of work.

I watch the lady across the street from my window.

She begins to undress with no knowledge of the eyes across the street staring her down.

I unzip my pants and release my love stick upon my hand. I begin to stroke it up and down, keeping my eyes on the naked piece of flesh across the street. The More I do it, the better I feel.

My eyes begin to twitch at a rapid pace. The feeling of launching off finally comes to be as my knuckles are covered with a sticky substance.

I open my eyes and see the lady staring at me with a shocked look on her face. She walks away and I put my love stick back in my pants. I walk over to my desk and open the drawer, pulling out a hammer.

The pleasure is done, now the pain must begin.

I walk across the street and head up the stairs to her apartment. I calmly knock on her door. Since she’ll know that I was the one pleasuring himself to her body, I’ll get this over quickly.

She opens the door and without a thought I bash the hammer into her forehead, sending her to the ground. I grab her body and drag it into the apartment and shut the door.

She seems passed out from the blow to the head. The voices in my head are screaming to rape her and I know better to not listen to them, they’re always right. I take out the blade out of my pocket and slowly put it between her legs and begin to what I call “Knife rape” her.

I can tell she’s feeling it and the pain I am causing her is beyond horrible. I am a fucking monster. Scum on this planet. But I can’t help not doing it; I feel a sense of fun. I take the blade out between her legs. I can’t let this poor creature feel anymore pain. I take the blade and slice open her throat. The blood from her throat spurts out and into my face. She is beginning to expire and leave this hellhole known as earth. I go up to her kitchen sink and clean off the blade. I feel tired and want to rest. Today has been a bummer but you know what?

Tomorrow’s another day.

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