All it could feel was rage. Delicious, delicious rage. Rage towards everything, everyone.
Its lovely orange hot flames circled around its victims. It was a monster, a horrible, horrible monster. It knew that. It liked that. Liked the panicked and terrified faces of its victims. Loved it.
Often it loses control of itself inside the pleasing feelings of satisfaction by swallowing down the victims. The outraging anger. The odd sense of accomplishment.
They cannot escape it. They must know that it's too powerful. Unstoppable. Almighty. Inescapable. They must know that I will always catch them. The faces of its tasty victims were terrifyingly hopeless. This feeling made its burning flames grow taller. Stronger.
If it had the structure to grin, there would be a huge, evil grin plastered upon it.
It looked at its poor, poor victims one last time before they drowned into its flames.
YOU ARE READING
terrifyingly comfy place
Short StoryI enjoy writing these short stories representing a problem I deal with, or a world problem, kind of like writing my feelings and thoughts in a journal only it's a more symbolic and indirect way if that makes sense. hope someone can relate to these...
