Some Things Never Change: A Book Dedicated to Absolutely Nothing At All

His Thoughts

Rip......slash....choke......stab......break..... all words floating through His head like so many thoughts of ending it. He looked into Her eyes, drinking in Her innocence, savoring Her angelic aroma, cloying the air as if She were some intoxicatingly beautiful species of flower, pure, untouched, incomparable beauty. He sat near Her, taking care to be calm, proving to be more and more difficult, as His ears rung, and His heart rate was picking up. She screamed and screamed, but He watched and waited. She looked around the filthy room one last time, and finally silenced Her meaningless cries of terror, as though She were an ensnared rabbit, terrified and trying relentlessly to escape the inevitable demise that awaited Her. She started to speak again, but He quickly put a finger up to Her lips. She nodded obediently, knocking Her golden blonde hair into Her pale doll face. He stood, walking around Her and started rummaging through what sounded like a metal toolbox. He came back around and took off one of the rusted cuffs that confined one hand. She asked about the other cuff, but He ignored her and gave Her a pair of needle-nosed pliers, putting His finger to Her lips once again, smiling in a charming way. She couldn't smile back, as She didn't know what He wanted. He put his finger against Her lips again, this time revealing His impatience. As She looked around, dazed, He swung His hand through the air, landing flat against Her face, knocking air out of Her forcibly. Dazed, She screamed, getting hit again, only harder. He wrenched Her arm downward, putting the cuff back on tightly. And when He had Her secured, He smirked. He picked up the pliers She'd dropped in the struggle, and jabbed His finger directly at Her accusingly. He balled His fist and smashed it twice against Her temple, blurring Her vision. Dazed and near the point of either dying or blacking out, She watched in terror as He advanced. He pushed Her head back, observing cuts from His blows on Her head, and then suddenly grab Her top lip with the pliers. She screamed and struggled, but to no avail. In one smooth, swift motion He twisted and pulled off Her entire top lip and base of her nose. Blood streamed forth onto Her neck and chest, soaking her torso almost entirely. She continued to scream, and He once again gripped the pliers, this time pinching onto Her bottom lip, and twisted and pulled the skin away from Her face. In one huge chunk, Her bottom lip, chin flesh, and even some of Her throat was torn away. Blood spewed outward onto the floor, drenching His waist and upper thighs. He laughed as He cleaned off her face, probably savoring the way Her mouth looked. He looked at the clock and went and picked up some other tool out of the box. She was near death, and deeply into shock, so He better finish Her off now, while there was still life. He decided on a claw hammer, and swung the nail puller from behind, landing in Her left eye socket. Eye fluid and blood leaked steadily out of the gaping hole as She screamed louder than ever before. As He tried to pull the hammer loose, the nail puller got hooked on the inside of Her eye socket, and as He pulled, She began to spit out dark, crimson, blood clots, and it began to gush out of Her nose. He pulled and pulled, and it finally came free, chipping small fragments of bone out of Her skull. He dropped the sticky red hammer and pushed Her head back again. He drove His thumb into Her right eye, squishing it and crushing it like an overripe fruit. She screamed in agony and He screamed in pure rage. The eye gave out, popping and drenching His palm with hot, sticky fluid. He stepped back, then unlocked Her cuffs. She fell to the floor, writhing in pure pain, screaming to be left alone. He picked up His hammer once more, and brought it down viciously onto the back of Her head. It hit with a shark crack, blood flying out of Her empty eye sockets. He lifted it up once more, bringing it down with the same animalistic ferocity of the last blow. The hammer cracked Her head open, pouring blood out from the back of Her head down Her back and onto the floor. He swung one last time, smashing a chunk of Her skull into splinters, and tearing into the delicate tissue of Her brain. This subsequently caused part of Her brain to be squished violently out of her eye sockets. He flipped Her over, grabbing a machete, and chopped off Her head in one clean swing. Then, He lifted Her off the ground and set Her into the chair. He grabbed two chains hung from the ceiling and cuffed Her wrists, and hit a switch, causing Her to be raised up by Her arms. He hit the button again, stopping Her from being lifted any higher. He grabbed a butcher knife and started a Y-shaped incision, and, with a flourish, spilled Her organs onto the floor in a massive heap. As He continued cutting, She became less and less human, until She was packaged and finally thrown into the deep freezer. Her head, however, served a different purpose. He cleaned out the brains, placing the contents in a jar for later use, and soaked it in an odd substance. He then mounted it on a marble base, and put it in The Room. His work well done, He continued to make preparations. There were things to be done. He supposed He would be soon entertaining another guest. With a smile, He closed the door, and started making preparations...........

*Note: I wanted a story with no names and just a senseless, animalistic, barbaric murder. I wanted very little dialogue between characters, and I want to emphasize the irrelevance of naming characters. I like this one because it doesn't burden my readers with unnecessary details and doesn't focus on plot. I also like it because I wrote it. Nothing wrong with a little self-absorbed, egotistical, narcissism, is there?