I let it happen. It was my fault. I could have stopped them. Yet, I don't feel bad. I stood there, watching, a smirk on my face. I enjoyed their suffering. I loved the screams, begging for mercy. The men, the women, the children, too. I watched silently, not moving, yet they hadn't tried to attack me. They noticed me, but didn't care. I wanted them to punish their victims more, so I started yelling that they weren't torturing enough. One already was, so I pulled out a cookie from who knows where, and tossed it to them. Man, I never realized how fun massacre could be. That's why I started doing it myself.
YOU ARE READING
Nothing special
القصة القصيرةAssortment of small stories. They may need italics or bold, I'll add them later.
