My Beautiful

This story comes from the part of my mind where I keep the prisoners. The rest of me thinks this is creepy as hell. This is my best guess at what people who have emotional problems are like. You have been warned. He he.

She walked through the wooden door into her dark apartment. The first thing she noticed was that the walls and he furniture were covered with enormous amounts of blood that had been splattered on the walls in a very intricate pattern. As she stepped into her apartment to admire the bloody art, she accidentally stepped on something squishy. It was a human spleen.

She saw that the body had been horribly mutated with amazing precision. The arms and legs had been cut off and discarded and the various organs were laid in a circle around the torso. Each organ was an originating point from which the complex pattern of blood originated.

Only because the head was untouched was she able to recognize the victim of this beautiful artwork. Unfortunately it was John, a man she had met at a nightclub an hour earlier and seduced into going to her apartment. It was a shame that he had been killed now, he seemed like he would have made a fun bedmate for a night. Otherwise, he was a bit of an asshole and she had planned for him to die sooner of later.

She looked at the other, living, man sitting in a high backed chair to her left. He had a bloody kitchen knife in his left hand and a jet-black gun in his right. Even in the half-light she could make out the demented smile and the crazy blue eyes of her fiancée.

“You were always a great artist, honey, I think this work is simply beautiful.” She said to her fiancée in her smooth, silky voice that attracted men’s lust like flies to honey, “Though couldn’t you have waited until after. He seemed like a lovely companion in bed.” To this the fiancée replied in a calm, reasonable tone that made him seem like an expensive lawyer explaining his case: “He was threatening to shoot me with this gun I have here. Besides, if we are to get married you really must learn to stop all this seducing random men that you meet in clubs. I must admit, I enjoy killing them and it does keep my sadistic impulses in public to minimum, but how can our marriage mean anything if we aren’t faithful to one another?” At the last sentence her fiancée’s voice seem to show a slight hint of jealousy.

“I still love you more than anyone in the world.” She said in an automatic manner. “Yeah, right.” Replied her fiancée sarcastically. He wore a very downcast face and she almost thought she could see a tear running down his cheek when he said: “Goodbye, for now.” And blew the upper portion of his head off.

She looked at the corpse soaked with blood and spattered with bits of brains and bone. “Oh well, that’s that.” She said as she noticed a piece of paper with the words: To my one true love, written on it. She picked up the piece of paper and opened it. On the inside was written a poem:

My beautiful

My love forever

I am dead now

My love still goes on ever

I will not miss you long

For have done me wrong

I have set myself free

And I’m……….

“That’s so sweet!” she exclaimed as she went over to the corpse and kissed the lips of what was once her fiancée. She then walked through a door into the kitchen and noticed a wire stretched across the doorway. “How clever of you!” she said as she stepped over the wire. Suddenly, she heard a snap and saw the remains of a much thinner wire that was in front of the thinner one. Immediately afterwards, she heard a gun blast and felt a 10-gauge slug tear into her gut. She looked down at her opened stomach and saw that the words “taking you with me” written in blood on the floor.

How’s that for odd? Just after the I wrote about the shotgun blast the song Feuer Frei! (literally Fire Free! The single has a picture of a gun barrel) Started playing. Bang bang!