Pain

On Rainy Days

Sharp teeth are piercing skin and flesh. Another piece gets ripped out. The liquid is collecting in a puddle. It's still warm. I taste it. It's sweet. To sweet for my taste. The bitter meat suits my tastes better. I bite in again, ripping flesh from bone this time. Can't chew. It goes down in one gulp. I exhale. That was good. A weird sensation goes through my body, my arteries to be specific, but I didn't know that. Not good. I try to run away, but I lose my consciousness. For the last time my heart pumps. Black blood oozes out of me. The hooded man has come.

Killing a dog? I sure hate my job. He had rabies anyway. This poor kid got fucked up too. Most of his wounds are from the dog, except his ankle, seems like he broke it whilst running away. This week's been pretty empty, I should be happy for getting two at once, but I guess death still bothers me.

As the hooded man carefully stood up, his head barely moved. His weapon disappeared into the shadows as he moved to the main street. In the light of the lanterns his skin was pale and his coat was black. Some people would consider him a grim reaper, others a monster. He knew what he was, he didn't enjoy it, but it was his job and his life. He never made the choice, but this is better than nothing, right?