Demonic Death ( One shots)

Suicidal Murderer.

Red. Everything is red. My hands, my arms, my face. All covered in the thick crimson liquid of someone I knew that could save me. She was so beautiful, but it's a shame all beautiful things end so quickly. Picking a flower only to watch it wither away and die right before your eyes.

She didn't stand a chance. Not in this poisonous, filthy scum of a world. She would have never made it. Because she was something so delicate and fragile no matter what I always knew that this is how she would die. Bleeding out in the alley way after having her heart torn out. Literally.

This was the only way to save her. She had to die. Tortured and bloody. Maybe it didn't make sense to others but it did to me. I had to kill her. She had to stay pure forever. My beautiful pure flower that I just so happened to pick. She was withering. She was gonna leave me. So I killed her. And so she died.

I'll never forget her. I'll never forget how I felt killing her and how she looked as she bled out in my arms. Cutting her chest open with my knife. Hearing her screams of agony. Watching her writhe in pain as the adrenaline rushed through my body. But this was her fault. She dug her own grave. All I did was cut her open, letting her bleed out. Burying her 6 feet below the ground once her body had stopped twitching.

I felt nothing. Because I knew that she was an angel. One that had been mistakenly put on this earth, and I had saved her. I was the hero. The savior. And once the bullet hit my brain we'd be together again. Only this time forever. Even if it was in the depths of hell. I would make sure that my angel never left me. And so in the alley way with her heart cut out and a bullet in my brain we lay there. Hand in hand. Bleeding out. Our blood flooding onto the concrete. Blending together and joining us as one. She, my angel. And I, the suicidal murderer. - su1c1d3r0om