savvyhill
The festival was a beautiful one. Colorful streamers lined each room decoratively, and candles flickered back and forth on each table. People had drinks in one hand and cigarettes in the other, and a rather large cloud of smoke was choking those who didn't partake in the pastime. People danced joyfully to the beating of drums that never ceased.
We threw the holy oil around Lucifer before he woke up, and ignited the trail with my sister's Zippo Lighter. The flames woke Lucifer up, and he swore loudly as he realized the position he was in. He was trapped, and we had the one device that could kill him. He was going to die and this was finally going to be over.
It was New Years, and I was supposed to have a date to drink a glass of champagne with. Unfortunately, it seemed my taste in men was horrible and they were all notorious for standing me up last-minute. Instead of my handsome hero, I would be kissing my glass of champagne on New Years. How heart-breaking.
The blank sheet or music on her desk stared at her, taunting her. God dammit, she wanted to write that song that had been in her head for years now, but the lack of ability was blatantly obvious. She had no clue how to play an instrument.
The flannel shirt of the man I called my darling was burning on the ground, in a pile that I had created. I would miss him, yes, but there was no blood that tasted better than the blood of someone you loved.
The sunlight meant nothing to her. All everyone said was, "oh, won't the sunlight burn you?" She began to hate the sunlight because of the taunting that came from her classmates. Because she was pale and dressed in black, they constantly made "living-dead" and "vampire" jokes about her, which, on a regular day, wouldn't have bothered her, but today wasn't her day. She decided she was going to rip out the throat of the next person who made fun of her.
To the left of me was a young man. He was... average, I s'pose, dark hair, medium build, tall-ish, but there wasn't anything memorable about him, either. He was another man on the subway, riding to work or school or home, or whatever destination he had in mind.
The tallest man in the crowd was a man that I had known for a long time. Since high school, in fact. This man was a man of many faces, whether it be kindness, which he showed often, or rudeness, which was usually hidden beneath the kindness. There were always two layers to his faces, perhaps caring with a hint of lust, or interest with a hint of ego. And it was this man, who I had planned to murder tonight.
I walked through the flames of Hell, remembering that maybe I did deserve to be here. Countless times since I had arrived to Hell had the faces of the men and women I had murdered materialized before me, screaming, faces distorted in agony, the same faces they had made when I killed them. Perhaps I did belong in Hell, because seeing these faces didn't scare me or make me regret murdering them... it made me want to do it again. To another person. To taste the blood on my fingers was a delicacy enjoyed by few, and I was lucky enough to know the pleasures of human blood.
Buildings surround me, day and night. I wake up, I see buildings. I lay down, I see buildings. Walking to or from school, to the community center, anywhere, I always see buildings. I miss way back when, when I lived in a rural area, where the occasional house was the norm. I wish city lights didn't blind me day and night.
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writing since 2010 · 14 entries · 14 days shown up
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facesridiculousbuildingsbloodglassnightanotherkeysschoolhellsunlightweirdpostagewhatevertaxesfood