She sharpened her knife. She watched as the once dull edges began to sharpen. It sent thrills down her spine.
She loved cooking. It satisfied her. She could help others by handing out food to the homeless. The homeless wouldn't starve, and she would be doing what she loved most: cooking.
She admired the glimmer in the sharpened tool. She took it wherever she went, just in case there was some food lying around for her to chop up.
This time, however, she didn't need any food. She had collected a bunch the day before, hence the dull knife she sharpened only a few moments ago.
She walked into her room where she stored her meats. The rotten smell of corpses filled her nostrils, and she sniffed it all in. She always loved walking into the room of meats.
She ripped a corpse off of its hanger and dragged it to her kitchen.
'What should I make this time?' she thought. 'Oh! I have a wonderful idea! Winter is coming, so I should make soup! The homeless would be so happy!'
When she reached the kitchen, she threw the corpse of the snobby boy from the CEO's house onto the counter. He had kicked a homeless man, when he was alive, and she hated when people disrespected the nice homeless people.
She chopped up the boy into nice, little cubes and dropped them into some broth.
'This'll taste amazing,' she thought. 'Nice and fatty.'
YOU ARE READING
Random Writing Prompts
RandomAnyone can be a writer. They just either don't do it, or can't brainstorm decent story ideas. These prompts are ideas I could never continue. You may use them, and take credit for it. I only gave the idea. If you use a prompt, you deserve the c...
