The sweet smell of rotting flesh, the fantom feeling of slick blood on my hands. All as i lay in my chambers and think this, a gruesome death by my hand. The knife slides through the skin of my victim, not smoothly, as one might think, but sticking and pulling. Crimson liquid pours out and a scream fills my ears.
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Murderous Thoughts
HorrorJust a collection of things I probably shouldn't be thinking.
