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"SHORT STORIES for HELL"

A Conversation with Insanity  by Xylith

There are times when I am truly joyful.

 

When I play with my daughter as we walk in a park, when I look into my wife’s eyes, and when I hold the heart of a newly eviscerated victim in my hand and gaze at its many intricate patterns of life giving.

 

There is nothing like looking at fresh blood in the moonlight on a winter night, steam wafts upward on its way to the heavens, the warmth of that lifeblood slowly dripping down my arms as I offer it to the demons of our eldritch fathers.

 

Almost nothing compares...

 

In my opinion you would have to be insane not to appreciate the sensations of power and life.

 

You may not understand my viewpoint, no one can unless you have experienced the same.

 

Movies get it wrong even books get it wrong… only the few out there that have never been caught could truly tell you how it is, and even then you probably would not remember it long, for you would soon dream what dead men dream.

 

We are few; we are a select group of individuals that dare to question what it is to live. Is all that life has to offer to meekly perform a menial job in hopes of one day retiring and wasting away in some pre-funeral home of the inane and enfeebled … forgotten … misplaced… alone?

 

Or is life about questioning what is and what drives us to enjoy what is. After all doesn’t physics tell us that we are all just empty space?

 

With this in mind I choose my victims, some I let live and I check on them from time to time.

 

Like death itself I creep into their homes and wake them from fitful slumber, I usually ask myself if they are dreaming of me as they toss and turn before I awaken them to ask if they are still leading a wasted life and I give them the choice…do you want me to end it or have you found what you did not understand before?

 

Their looks are always priceless…

 

I write this in warning dear readers.

 

That creak you hear from your twenty-five thousand dollar kitchen might just be me, the soft tread of what you think is your cat stalking imaginary prey on your carpet in your bathroom could be me…watching you as you sleep… wondering if you appreciate the life you have and with infinite patience deciding whether or not you are in need of an epiphany.

 

For I keep no trophies… I have been doing this a long time… And I will continue to bring life to the lifeless… This is my task…

 

I keep no trophies because you are my prize.

I will always live through the very lifeblood you posses… Living or dead it all flows the same to me!

 

Have you ever seen blood on a moonlight night..?

 

~X~

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  'A Conversation with Insanity' statistics: (click to read)
Date created: March 9, 2008
Date published: March 9, 2008
Comments: 4
Tags:
Word Count: 1098
Times Read: 526
Story Length: 2
Children Rank: 2.2/5.0 (2 votes)