I awake with Jakes arms still wrapped tight around my stomach. He is still asleep and I don't want to change that. He looks peaceful when he sleeps.
I reluctantly untangle myself from his arms and dress quietly. I grab my pack and head out. My urge is returning, sending in waves of dizziness and headaches. I need blood to be drawn, before my mind collapses. The morning sky is a dark indigo. No one walks the sidewalks with me. I keep walking until I see him. Oh he's perfect. Middle aged, balding, back to me, reading a text. It's too easy. I slip a knife into my palm and slash his esophagus. Blood sprays the ground as I drag him to the alley. I slip the knife in my pocket and continue the walk. My mind is less likely to implode, but I need something more... satisfying. I turn the walk into a jog, feet beating into the concrete. I jog all the way to Dave's Gas Stop. I stop and head inside. I don't waste time, slamming Dave's head onto the marble counter and dragging him to the women's bathroom. I split open his chest and remove his liver and one if his kidneys, flushing them down another toilet. Oh, that sweet gurgling sound as I tear away useless pieces of flesh. Finally, my mind once again stable, I shove part of his intestine into his mouth and head to the market after wiping my hands on the towel rack.
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YOU ARE READING
Punishment And Love Don't Mix
БоевикTimoría Amare 5'8" 140lbs Long, brown hair, Brown eyes, Scar on right eye. Last seen on 34th Street, abandoning a crime scene. Wanted for 16 known counts of murder.