What Happens After Death - Snippet 1
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- Votes 3
- Parts 1
Ongoing7m
Last published Sun, May 31, 2015
The mind of a psychopath fascinates multitudes of people, including myself. This snippet of a future novel idea delves into this the best way I know how, fiction. Enjoy..
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𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 | 18+
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CHRONICLES: DIARY OF A SERIAL KILLER
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𝐄𝐊 𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐅𝐀 -Pyscho's Heartbeat
𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐫. "You're a psycho, a crazy bastard," I spat out, my veins pulsing with anger. He can't, he can't save me because I'm his. Because I'm not. "You made me that, remember?" His bloodied hand approached my face, sending shivers down my spine as he gently traced my skin from my forehead, down to my cheekbones, and finally to my jaw. His warm blood left a trail on my face, causing my ribs to tighten and my limbs to tremble. His touch was electric and scorching, searing my skin. Hamdan Waseem had always been a soft sunshine in my eyes, but the figure before me now, smearing his warm blood on my face, is still Hamdan, yet a version I never knew. He's a monstrous version of himself, a psycho. "Calling me a psycho is an understatement because I'm much more than that six-letter word when it comes to you," he smirked devilishly, causing my stomach to churn.Complete
The experiment.
They used my vulnerability against me. They used that weapon, to make me accept their stupid idea. And I of course, accepted it, I didn't even know what they were going to do. They tugged and poked and even shoved their disgusting finger in your wound, just to see you cry. To see you change. No pitty in their eyes. They just continue. They drag you around with metal chains, hit you and turn you into a experiment. But I had enough of the tugging, the clawing, the moaning, the crying and pleading for them to stop, but simply feeding them with our pain. They turned me into something, that neither do they know what I am. Their afraid of me, of my reflexes, my strength. I killed a lot of them. They say I have a cold heart, that I don't feel nothing. That's why they call me: Death -----------------------------------------************************************--------------------------------------------- Death. A teen girl, pitch black hair, black eyes, white skin. Her height is 5'8. People are scared of her, not just because of her strength but because of they way she kills. She lived in this hell hole, where they take her to rooms. Examine. Fight. She knows she won't be able to entertain them for long. She decides to run. Soul. Brown hair as mud, blue eyes as the sky. Hight 6'2. Tanned and toned body. Death's best friend in the hell hole they're in, he's as cold as she is. But shows a bit of sympathy. Well... More than her at least. He's been there for her, ever since she entered this place of crap. They're the two most feared. As some people say, they're a perfect couple. Killing. Fighting. Cold hearted creatures. Also known as D and S. Why? That's what your going to find out, joining this adventure with D and S.Complete
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Told from a killer's perspective. A story of a mentally ill man diagnosed and classified as a psychotic person. He sets his eyes on a girl for no real reason and is determined to get her after a short series of events which make him go back to his roots and instincts. What will happen to the woman? What will he do? Start reading and find out.
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