Jeff

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         I don't know what I'm doing anymore. This life seems like an endless pit of doom. Where nothing matters.
         My thoughts about life are interrupted by footsteps once again (tap, tap, tap). I turn expecting to see Smiley but I'm faced with darkness instead. I look around. I notice a large fire had started where the crash was. I turn once more. There's Smiley. It swings at me, silver gleams in their hand. I lean back. The tip of the knife catches my bottom lip. Sweet iron envelopes my taste buds as blood drips into my mouth. I wipe my bottom lip. Agony rips through my pain receptors. Smiley smirks. I smile back through ravishing pain. Their sharp teeth gleam, I lunge. I raise my hand to stop the knife, it tears through my hand. Blood pulses through my viens and out my hand. Rust scratches the tissue (I like rusty spoons). I push my hand back making Smiley hit their self with the back of the knife. It's stunned. The stitching on it's eyes move as if it tried to blink. I grab the knife with my other hand. I pull the blade from in-between the bones in my hand. I wiggle my bloody fingers, (bloody hell, mate). I finally slash at the creature. A lme appears in its neck. It grasps for it's throat. Dark red blood gushes from between their fingers.
      "Please...gurgle"
      "I'm good"
      I drop the knife and wipe my injured hand in my jeans. I make my way down the street. I look back at the body and it's gone.
      Fun Fact: I live in Hell. It's not as bad as they make it out to be, if you know the right places (and people). I continue my journey that was so rudely interrupted. I walk toward an apartment, which looks uninhabited but, in Hell's reality it is. I go up the stairs down the dingy hallway to a door with the number 666. My friend who I'm visiting thought it would be funny to add a few extra numbers to his door.
      I walk right in. He turns in his swivel chair illuminated by his box computer.
     "Wass up, bitch?" Issac inquires.
     "Nothing much." I make my way to his plastic covered couch. The floors creak as I walk. The room is dark but I'm used to it. Issac turns back to his porn. He runs his hand through his dark hair. He reaches for the mouse, his sleeve reveals his dark scales.
     I get up and saunter to the bathroom.  I do my business and then wash my hands. (Surprising right?) I look at the crack mirror. My eyes are completely black, my black curls surround my face. I smile my red lips showing sharp canines.