I dream of blood.
I love blood. The smell. How it feel on my skin.
The vain it comes out of. The life I'm draining.
I've been brought up to never leave blood behind. That's why we use hot tools so no blood is left.
When know one is looking or it's just my job, I love to burn the victim. But after when there near begging for death that's when I let them bleed.
I'm usually good and quick to move when there close to death I block the wounds with hot coals. And the blood flow stops and its quite funny when they jolt awake from the extra pain of the heat.
But it all ends differently either they die or I just drop them in the middle of nowhere. And watch them run for the little hope of freedom and safety. Even then it's funny watching them run for what? They don't know. They never remember but they know then need to run from something or someone.
YOU ARE READING
Thoughts I release.
AcakNightmares and Thing I can't say out loud. But I can write down.
