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Wednesday, December 04, 2024 22:40:50 CSTLogin ] [ Contact Forum Admin ] [ Main index ] [ Post a new message ] [ Search | Check update time | Archives: 12345678910 ]

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Date Posted: 14:36:35 03/17/22 Thu
Author: Comicality
Subject: (Chapter Six)
In reply to: Comicality 's message, "(S) "GFD: Bloodstained Duet 6"" on 14:29:11 03/17/22 Thu



"GFD: Bloodstained Duet 6"




It seemed to take me longer than usual to wrap Victor's body up in the black trash bags that I got out of the pantry. That and the duct tape and double checking for any sort of leakage from the sides. That boy was definitely a bleeder. Such a mess. Even after rolling up the carpet to shove in the bag next to his corpse, I found that had to mop up a bit more of his blood on the floor beneath it. Even in death, this kid was a fucking asshole.



I turned on Black Sabbath's 'Paranoid' as I got a bucket of warm water and soap to scrub whatever was left of his DNA on my living room floor. Even had to check the couch cushions to make sure that he didn't leave any unwanted stains behind. It was an annoying process...but I have to admit...it did feel pretty good to see him so quiet. Yap, yap, yap...that's all that hippie son of a bitch ever did. And look at him now. Finally...some peace of mind.



I doubted than any of my neighbors would be awake at this time of night, much less wandering around the building. But I used enough caution to pad the body bag and take him out by using the service elevator down at the end of the hall. Skinny fuck wasn't even all that heavy. Piece of cake.



As I tossed the limp body into the trunk of my car, I took one last look at him...savoring some of the left over thrill that I got from slicing his throat wipe open the way I did. The feel of his flesh tearing itself, so helpless against the razor sharp blade...the surprise in his eyes...the desperation as he fought to breathe, causing bubbles of crimson colored liquid to bubble and sputter from the hole in his neck. So few people will ever know the excitement that an up close murder like this brings to people to me. And you know what? I feel sorry for them. Because it's a rush. A rush like they wouldn't believe.



I closed the trunk and drove Victor's body out to one of my many construction sites on the outskirts of the Chicago area. I knew of one place that would be pouring a concrete foundation the day after tomorrow just off of Cicero. I'd have to put in a bit of work tonight to dig a hole and cover him up for the next 48 hours, but a shallow grave should do just fine. He wasn't that important. Just another bag of trash to get out of my line of sight. And when they start to pour in the groundwork for the building...nobody's going to take the extra time to double check. They've got a schedule to keep, after all. A schedule that I gave them, personally. Victor will just end up being another missing runaway sack of garbage who left home and will never be found again. Nothing more.



I think there would be many more murders in this city if people knew just how easy it was to get away with.



I turned the lights off as I approached the site, and I grabbed a shovel to dig a hole that was only three feet deep. It was in the middle of nowhere, and fenced off to keep outsiders from snooping around. So I didn't really have to worry about discretion at this point. Congratulations, Victor...you're actually about to be a part of something greater than yourself.


I went back to the trunk to drag his lifeless corpse out of it, and dumped him into the hole...covering him up right away and patting it down so that it didn't draw too much attention by looking as though the settled dirt was, in any way, out of place. Then I made sure to smooth over my footsteps and the marks of dragging him across the lot as I backed up towards my car. It didn't look like I was ever there. So I tossed the shovel back in the trunk, got in the driver's seat, and made my way back home.



Thankful to get that extra bit of stress off of my mind.



I made myself another TV dinner before bed. All of that digging had effectively worked up another appetite within me, and I wasn't going to be able to get a good night's sleep without a little snack to put my hunger pains at ease. And afterward...I laid down in my bed, pulled the blanket over me, and let out a sigh of relief as I drifted off to sleep. Mission accomplished. Problem solved.



When I woke up the next morning, I felt a bit sore in the arms and shoulders...but it wasn't something that a hot shower and my morning coffee couldn't solve. I was sure of it. I went on with my day, making sure to check the trunk of my car again to make sure that there were no traces of my late night 'guest' left behind. I mean, I highly doubted that anybody cared enough to come around asking about him...but it never hurts to be too careful. I needed to have my hands clean. Just in case.



I bought some groceries, another box of black garbage bags too...seeing as it took quite a few of them to get Victor all covered up and ready to go...and some more beer to celebrate exiling that snot nosed punk from my life, once and for all. But, as the sun began to set...I found myself returning to my original obsession...and I took a short detour to park across the street from the diner where Ginger worked. It did wonders for my heart to see her again. It really did.



Look at her smile. Something about it was so genuine. So untainted by society's woes. I peered through the diner windows, wondering if I might have the courage to possibly go in and visit her, face to face. I would love to be in there right now. To touch her hand. To smell the fragrance of her hair. To hear her voice as it spoke my name. There was a part of me that wanted to be so very close to her...but that would ruin my work. My art. I'm not a good person. I know that. I am a vile demon in the presence of angels...and my interaction with her would only dim the light within her if I was close enough to feel her touch. It's not something that I can help. I can't control it.



I need to keep her safe. She needs to be pure if the act of ending her life is going to have any real meaning or purpose at all. She's perfect...just like she is now. I can't take that from her. It wouldn't be right. But the clock is ticking...and if I'm going to 'save' her uncontaminated soul from being corrupted by the filth luring her in with fake smiles and malicious intent...then it has to be soon. They prey upon beauty like that. And angels can't remain angels under that kind of torture and pain.



I couldn't....



Feeling my compulsion to do something rash without thinking it through and spoiling the moment, I decided to start my car up again, turn up the radio, and simply travel home. If I saw her leave work and walk these streets alone tonight, I wouldn't be able to help myself. I know that I wouldn't. I would cut her so deep. And I'd enjoy watching the life leave her eyes as she stared back at me and wondered why. Why did I do this to her? How could I be so heartless? But she doesn't have the capacity to understand. Her life is a story. And there's nothing worse than a story with a lackluster ending.



Sometimes...you just have to end it when it's at its peak, and leave it alone before it burns itself out.



I felt my pulse returning to normal, my heart calming itself down as I gripped the steering wheel tightly with both fists, trying to struggle with the knowledge that I can't figure out why I'm like this. That poor girl. Why did she have to be the next victim? WHY? I'm SICK! I'm loathsome! But I don't know how else to react to this. She has to...she has to die. And I have to be the one to suffer the burden of being the one to do it. No one else will be worthy. No one else will understand!!!



I felt tears welling up in my eyes, but I fought them back. I needed to be strong. No time for tears. Not now. Tomorrow night...I'll do it. If I drive by there, and she's working...and she walks home alone...then I'll do it. I'll make the sacrifice in order to keep her whole. I promise. Oh God...I can't believe how much I want this again. Why won't it stop?



WHY WON'T IT STOP???



I found myself a place to park on the street, and grabbed the few groceries that I bought out of the backseat, pressing down the locks to make sure that my care was safe as I began walking back to my apartment building. I fumbled a little bit, trying to get a hold on the right key for the lobby entrance...and something dark flashed by me. I only caught a swift glimpse of it out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned my head to look in that direction...there was nothing there.



I was still for a moment. My ears perked up to see if I could hear something. My eyes sharpening their focus as I looked around me. But it was obvious that I was simply standing there alone on the sidewalk, so I shook off the pointless paranoia and stuck my key in the door to get into the building. When I pressed the button for the elevator...nothing lit up. I pressed it a few more times, but nothing happened, and I didn't hear any of the gears turning or moving inside of the elevator shaft, so I mumbled a few curse words to myself and decided to take the stairs. It wasn't going to be a super high climb, but it was more than I expected to make tonight. I tried to balance my brown paper bags of groceries as best as I could, and started my hike up towards the fourth floor. However...once I got about two floors up, I heard the door at the bottom of the steps open up and then close again.



At first, I just figured that it was another one of my neighbors or somebody else in the apartment who was having the same troubles that I was having with the elevator down the hall. But...I didn't hear any footsteps climbing the stairs. In fact, once the door closed, the entire staircase fell eerily silent. I paused for a brief moment, but figured that I was being ridiculous about the whole thing. It was just silly, right? So I kept walking up the stairs, and I was almost to the door to the fourth floor when, suddenly, all of the lights went out. The staircase became pitch black in an instant, and I couldn't see anything at all.



It made sense. The apartment building was having electrical issues, and that's probably why the elevator didn't work. Power outages could be pretty common in some parts of the city.
I guess it was our turn to deal with it. Besides, I was close enough to the fourth floor door to just finish my walk and go home.



And then...I heard a footstep on the stairs down below.



Then another. And another. And just as I was awkwardly shuffling my grocery bags around a bit to grab the handle and exit the stairwell...I suddenly heard the steps speed up! Loudly stomping their way up to where I was as though someone was running at TOP speed to reach me! In a frightened panic, I yanked the door open and got myself back into the light of the hallway. Slamming the door behind me and pressing my back against the wall to see if someone was going to burst out of it and attack me or something before I had a chance to react.



But everything went silent again. No noise. No footsteps. No one chasing me in the dark. I began to feel as though my mind was playing tricks on me. More foolishness. Perhaps it was seeing Ginger again through that diner window that triggered these random thoughts of mine. I'm cracking up here. I need her to be gone so I can move on. I can't just let her keep driving me crazy like this. It has to be tomorrow. Once she's dead...I can find some peace. We both will.



I went back to my apartment and opened the door, kicking it closed behind me and putting the groceries on the counter to separate and load into the fridge. Then I grabbed myself a beer, getting a glass and some ice as the long walk up the stairs had allowed it to get a bit warm on me...and I kicked my feet up after turning on the TV. I still felt a little winded, but the icy brew helped to calm my nerves.



It had only been a minute or two when I suddenly heard the sound of another beer being opened behind me. Startled, I quickly jumped up from my seat on the couch and spun around to see Victor standing in my kitchen, tilting a can of my beer up to his lips!



He was still covered in dirt, his long brown hair was messy and sticking together with lumps of coagulated blood. My heart nearly stopped beating when I saw him, my body shivering as my brain tried to process whether or not I was imagining this or if it was real.



"What...what the fuck is this???" I said, gasping for breath.



After a few more gulps, Victor leaned back against the sink, and gave me one of his most obnoxious smiles. "You're a sneaky one, man. You know that?"



"I...I don't...how are you...?"



Victor took a few more gulps of his beer before letting out a loud belch. "You know...I was trying to be cool with you, Jack. I really was. And what do you do? You pig out on me, man. That wasn't a good move on your part. I'm not digging that at all." He said, and then guzzled the rest of his beer before crushing the can and tossing it over his shoulder. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, and I began to shake violently as he stood upright and came around the counter to approach me. "You're running out of chances here, Jack. You've got no idea what I could fucking DO to you right now. If you did...you would have known that it wasn't worth it." He said. "You see this? Huh? DO YOU???" Victor raised his chin, and I could clearly see the horrific scar that was left behind after ripping his throat open with my blade the way that I did. Clearly visible, but it looked as though it had been...'healed' somehow. The gap had been closed, the flood of his life essence wiped away as though it were a simple paper cut. "Do you know that it's going to take me a good two or three sleep cycles to repair this shit, man? What was going through your head? That shit HURT!"



"How did you...?" My voice was getting caught in the back of my throat, and I backed up as he took another few steps towards me.



"How many times am I going to have to tell you to mellow out before you actually mellow out?" He growled. "You cut me deep, brother. Really deep. And I'm not just talking about the blade, ya dig?" He said. "You almost got me, man. You almost had me thinking that we were building ourselves a groovy little bond here, you and me. But you flipped it at the last second and went all 'disco' on me, and now I'm thinking that I've gotta teach you a lesson to show you that this isn't the fucking game that you think it is."



"You were dead!" I said. "I...I buried you...!"



"Yeah, you did. And do you know how hard it was to fight my way out of those bags, climb up through the dirt, and then have to walk my way back over here to put you in your place, man? The whole process was a total DRAG, man! And the whole time, I'm thinking...I can't just let this mother fucker get away with this, Scott free. You've gotta pay the piper, chief. Right here. Right now."



"What do you mean?"



"Well, you slit my throat with your right hand, didn't you? I'm assuming that you're right handed?"



"What does that have to do with any...?" Before I could finish my sentence, Victor sped towards me in a blur that I couldn't even follow with my eyes. He grabbed my left hand, and before I could even scream or understand what was going on, he took all four of my fingers and bent them all the way back until they were slammed up against my own knuckles! I could hear the bones snap, but the shock of it all didn't allow me to feel the intense pain of the damage until he let me go. I SCREAMED out in agony, but Victor pressed his hand over my mouth to keep me quiet, and he knelt down with me as I fell to the floor, my painful tears running over the back of his hand.



"You keep hollering like that, and I'll pinch your nostrils closed until you pass out. You hear me?" He snarled. "We've got a fucking understanding now, don't we?" He said, but I was in so much pain that I couldn't answer him. That's when he smashed his FIST into the wall, right beside my face, putting a dent in the plaster. "DON'T WE?!?!"



I nodded my head, but it wasn't good enough for him. He wanted me to say it out loud. So I fought through my suffering and I sobbed, "Y-Y-Yes...we...we have an understanding."



He stared me right in the eyes, his pupils now a dark red as I saw his fangs drop down from his gums. "If you give me any reason to even think that you've got any more games to play, I'm gonna fucking slaughter you like the pig you are and go find me someone who isn't as stuck up as you are, you understand? If you think what you do to your victims is bad...just imagine how bad it'll be for you if I have to spend just one more day in the dirt." All I could do was hold my hand, my fingers all violently broken at once, and I wept openly as I tried to find a way to soothe myself from the unfathomable pain. "No more games, Jack. No more. This is your one 'Get Out Of Jail Free' card. You try that shit with me again...you're done, man. Totally done. And I'm going to make it hurt. Believe me." With that said, Victor stood up and left me on the floor, walking over to toss me a damp dishrag to clean up with. "I'm gonna assume you're not going to mind me using your shower. Seeing as you're the one that got me all dirty and fucked up in the first place. I expect to see you sitting right here in this living room when I get out. Just remember...whether its rain or shine...I always know where you are. Always." He began to walk towards my bathroom, but he looked over his shoulder first, saying, "I like you, Jack. So let's keep things civil between you and me. I'd hate to have to end this relationship of ours on a 'bad note'."



As he went into the bathroom and closed the door...I tried to snap my fingers back into position, which was almost more painful than having them snapped backwards in the first place. And I had to hold them close to my chest, right up against my heart...crying softly as I tried to figure out what my next move was going to be.



I may be a monster. I know that. But there are bigger monsters in the world than me. And I've effectively lost my place at the top of the food chain.



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