Story cover for Killer (M:C) by Michaelscliffordd
Killer (M:C)
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  • WpView
    LECTURAS 38
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    Votos 3
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    Partes 2
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    Hora 6m
Continúa, Has publicado oct 25, 2014
Contenido adulto
I would love to sit every single person who has hurt me in a room in a circle. I’d have their wrists and ankles bound. I’d give them a small amount of room so they can squirm about a little. That makes it more interesting in a way. I wouldn’t use a gun. I’d use a knife. I’d use it because I could feel more and get more pleasure out of it. I’d stab their body until their squirming and screaming got on my nerves then I’d just drive it through their head a few times. After they’ve shut up, I’d go back to their body and I wouldn’t stop until they had a wound for every word they’ve spoken in their miserable life. I wouldn’t stop until they had a wound for every tear they made run down my face. After I’m satisfied with that person, I’d move to the next until everyone was gone. I can’t imagine the feeling of seeing their blood spilt by my hand. The fluid that kept them alive is on the floor worthless because of me. What an amazing feeling that would be.
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Everything was gone. I sobbed, my clothes ripped and I was bleeding, but it didn't matter. I had to get to her, to them. Had to find- Struggling to stand, I grasped my side, biting back the scream that wanted to escape. I looked down at my hands and red coated them, blurring together until I couldn't see anything anymore. I squeezed my eyes shut, forcing my panicked breathing to slow, until I felt in control of myself again. It had been so long, I thought as I turned my peeling and dry face to the sun, my fingers shaking as I struggled to make sense of them. For so long, I'd been a wolf, cursed. All that I was, or could've been had been reduced to nothing but an animal driven by instinct, bloodlust, thousands of lives met their ends at the edges of my razor sharp claws. I had no idea where I was, how much time had passed. My fingers touched something hard in the sand, and a jolt of information went through me as Queen Azalea's sword, gleamed as I pulled it free. My heart started to pound as sun glinted off of the blade, reflecting back at me. I nearly dropped the metal when I saw myself. I took a second look and saw white hair, caked with dirt, and yellow eyes, blue veins sparking in their depths. All at once, I remembered who I was. I remembered why I was here, how much time had passed. I am Azalea Marie Albescu, The Queen Alpha. A false queen sits on my throne, controls what's mine. I would have to make my way back to my pack, my family, and my home, if still there. I would rise again, as I had before, and reclaim what belongs to me. DISCLAIMER: AS WITH MANY OF MY STORIES, I DO IMPLICATE SITUATIONS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT/ABUSE. Not in any way do I intend to glamorize this behavior, I write about these delicate and painful situations because I myself relate to them and will always fight for survivors, including myself. Thank you for your understanding and if you are in any way uncomfortable reading these stories, I encourage you to look elsewhere.