Chapter 3:
I waited. I had nothing better to do that day anyway. It's not like I had friends to see, a job to attend to. Those pointless distractions were abandoned long ago. None of it made me happy. Not that I would know, though. I don't remember my life before. Maybe I'm crazy, but that's just another word. It doesn't begin to describe how I feel. Maybe crazy is just what people see when they look at me. I don't understand those happy little slaves. How can they be so ignorant? I am the sane one. I do what makes me happy. Or rather, what helps me to escape the pain. That's all that matters.
The hunger had been eating away at me for the longest time now. I open the fridge and take a slice of bread. Sitting cross-legged on the counter, I stare at the door, eating as I waited for my little acquaintance to arrive home. I had everything set up. The table, the ropes, everything to make his pain easier to enjoy.
I listened to the approaching footsteps. "Heh," I breathed. "I haven't done this in awhile." As the door handle jiggled, a grin spread across my face and I closed my eyes, slowly, lowering my head as I giggled.
YOU ARE READING
Knives
HorrorThis story centers around Knives, a sadistic killer. Throughout the "episodes" in this book, Knives often contemplates the nature of reality and what sort of meaning it should hold for him. Due to the influence of a voice in his head called Night, K...
