Slendrina: A Short Story (R-18+)

Chapter 5: Asylum

Dareilla walked, savouring the fresh, morning dew with knife in hand. How long had she walked? An hour? Two hours? She'd lost count of time. All she knew was that the sky was dark and the air was damp, so it was probably during the wee hours of the morning. She'd terrorised every house she'd come to, smashing through their windows and disemboweling the occupants. Her white dress, face and arms were now covered in the blood of her victims. She lifted up her head, and her eyes met a structure in the distance. At last, another house to terrorise. She smiled wickedly. This is going to be so worth it, she thought.

Dareilla smashed through a glass window using a hammer she'd found from a previous victim's house. She moved quickly through the house, making sure to silence every occupant in order not to create unnecessary noises. Once the hardest part was done, she could now proceed with the disembowelment process. She looked at the body of a young man, no older than twenty one.

"This is revenge for what I've been through," she said softly. The victim looked so innocent and lifeless. Of course, it was just a corpse now. She suddenly stabbed the body multiple times, each stab bringing a river of tears out of her eyes. Her hair was in disarray. She cried. The entire world was against her. No one seemed to give a damn about her wellbeing. At least, by brutally murdering people, she felt justified, but she wasn't satisfied.

Dareilla continued her killing spree, smashing through the windows of random houses using the tools of her victims. Occassionally, she'd swap the hammer for a hatchet, as she could butcher and bludgeon her victims to death. Personally, she loved the hatchet more than the hammer, as it was more agile, and had a sharper edge with a great handle for wonderful gripping. She loved the sight of blood, and savoured the half seconds of her victim's screams before swinging the hatchet down to their heads.

Dareilla sliced, diced, bludgeoned, disemboweled and cut up the corpses of her victims, all the time smiling with delight at her wonderful handiwork. When she felt bored, she would turn to her creative side, doing things like placing the body parts of her victims around their house. She considered herself more arty whenever she did something unusual with their body parts, such as slapping a victim's face with a hand she'd cut off from another victim. Occasionally she would gouge out her victims eyes, or cutting them out of their eye sockets for the sake of decorating their houses. She decapitated her victims, hanging their heads from their front door handles, if not she would place them on their driveway. She took a deep breath. The sun was coming up, and the town would awake very soon. Or what was left of the town would awake. She was sure she'd killed most or all of the townspeople. The rest of the townspeople, if there were any left, would wake up to the shock of their lives.

"Probably die of fright," she laughed happily. She hoped any visitors who visited this town would die of shock, horror and death. I should probably make a move, she thought. She quickly walked to a neighbouring woodland, waiting eagerly to hear human screams. The entire world had offended her. They had taken away the people which meant to her the most, her parents. Now, she had fulfilled her mission. Ever since the death of Angelene, her mother, safety never occurred to her. At last, she could rest. She could sleep forever. This was it. She was done.

Dareilla woke to the sounds of voices and leaves rustling in the distance. She rubbed sleep from her eyes and blinked rapidly. Where was she? Trees surrounded her. She was in some sort of forest. Oh, of course, she did walk into a neighbouring woodland following her killing spree. If this was the police, it was time to meet them. It was time, to reunite with her family. With that, she walked towards the sounds.

"Over here!" she hollered. "I'm waiting! What took you guys so long?!"

Within a minute, Dareilla found herself surrounded by law enforcement officers. There were more SWAT units surrounding her than regular officers. She laughed. She steadied her hatchet in her right hand, arming her left with a knife.