Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Save File 1
Oliver laid back on his chair. His hair was unkempt and his eyes were glazed with drowsiness. Oliver didn't want to go to sleep nor did he feel like resting that night. His arms were covered in scratches from last night, the pain was barely noticeable because he knew his old friend so well that it didn't even faze him.
Last night was tiresome, but it was the best night he's experienced since all those years ago. Oliver started to bear a sickening grin. He thought about how he held the blade in his hand, the wooden texture of the handle brought back old memories.
All of the people that suffered by his hands... he held no remorse for all of the people that he killed. He thought of the time he fed a woman a paralysis poison and forced her to watch as he opened her up and harvested her organs. Allen also wanted his share, he said good organs were worth a lot of money on the Black Market, but it's not like Oliver cared.
He only did it because human blood and meat was the secret ingredient in his pastries [Allen always said it was like the secret Krabby Patty formula, but he doesn't know what that means], and it was for the thrill of seeing humans begging for their lives. He only took people that fit the criteria. He'd keep that a secret though.
Last night he made sport of a harlot that decided to wander the streets at night. He remembered how her steps were uncoordinated and drunken. He made sure to grab her and cover her mouth with his gloved hand. She kicked, screamed, and clawed at his arms as he dragged her into the alleyway to bring her to his basement.
Oliver leaned back in his chair and laughed. He quickly got up from the old armchair, nearly spilling the long forgotten cup of tea on his table. He combed his fingers through his messy hair and he started walking towards the basement door. He opened the door, the creaks echoed throughout the house as he started down the stairs.
Muffled noises were getting louder with each step until he saw the light hanging from the ceiling. In the middle of the room he saw the woman lying on an operating table in the middle of the room. As he approached her he saw her eyes catch his, which caused her to panic and release loud muffled cries.
The blood from yesterday's event covered the metal table and her body. Her pleading cries reaching no one but the monster in front of her. She shook her head rapidly, her blood stained hair moving along with her panicked motions.
Oliver loved the look of sheer terror on her face. It gave him a sense of overwhelming joy and a gruesome feeling of accomplishment. Oliver wasn't moved by the woman's fear. He only picked up a sharp butcher knife and walked closer to her. Then he whispered,
"This may be very painful, Poppet. But don't worry, you'll die soon enough."
