Short Stories

Idea 29

I wake up in this lonely cell.

The walls, solid iron. Are they trying to keep me in. Or keep things out?

There's only one window.

Bullet proof.

But with more iron bars outside the window pane.

I glance at my hands.

Covered in blood.

Whose I do not know.

I lick my chapped lips. The tang of salt and metal on them.

I spit, scarlet droplets falling onto the cold, metallic floor.

I grin. At least I took someone out. I think to myself.

I let out a guttural growl.

I snicker. It sounds hollow, insane.

I'm more animal than human.

I'm a monster.

I am a predator.

I am no longer the prey.

I take out who I can.

24 kills. Yes I keep count.

Once again I look at my bloody hands.

I run my tongue across one of my blood spattered fingers.

Crimson diamonds crystalizing in my mouth.

I smile, showing my fangs.

I hear the door to my cell creak open.

I glance at the man entering.

I feign laziness.

I make myself relax. Even though all of my animal instincts were screaming for me to cower away.

But I have learned my lesson.

I will never bow.

I will never break again.

After all.

You can't break something.

That's already been broken. And beaten to the ground.

All you can do is pick yourself back up.

And those who broke you in the first place.

You find them.

Tear their hearts out.

And burn them.

Burn their souls all the way down the circle of hell were they belong.

"Are you going to cooperate this time?" The man speaks. His voice is deep. But boring. If a normal person had listened to his voice. They would have called it, what do they say?

Oh ya, sexy? Maybe. But that side of me burned along time ago.

That simple ignorant part of me died. It died when I broke. When I snapped.

Now there's nothing left but a shell. An insane, chaotic, amazing shell.

"Why should I cooperate?" I say, making sure my voice grates on his nerves.

I have learned to listen.

Different tones, and voices have different effects on people. I have learned to judge, annoy, and finally kill.

Just by what I hear in a person's voice.

And his, I don't like it. Sounds.....Annoying. Sounds plain, and simple. No, can't have that can we?

No we certainly can not.

I tilt my head at the man.

"Maybe I will cooperate." I say slowly rising.

I see him reach for his gun.

"Honey that won't help you here." I murmur.

"Now," I'm close enough that I could touch him. "Now, you belong to me."

I smile.

Before I put on hand on the back of his neck.

Before he can move, I slice his throat, with a quick jab of my nails across his jugular.

He falls to the floor, twitching. Blood spilling out of his throat.

I give him a sharp smile. One filled with malice, anger, hatred, and of course, insanity.

"Night, night." I whisper.

Then, the man goes limp.

I cackle.

"I'm back, and this time, you won't put me away so easily."

For those of you who don't know me, don't worry I'm not depressed or suicidal. I write weird and insane things because it's fun. So ya just wanted to put that out there.