
Okay, darkest thing I've ever done! And longest! Ah! 370 words ; ; . I'm proud of myself! It's about an insane woman who murders a man who cheated on her with another woman (she's referred to as Blondie). Returned reviews. This is my favorite piece so far (despite the darkness of the piece...), so to celebrate, RETURNED REVIEWS FOR EVERYONE!
Rated: Fiction T - English - Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy - Words: 370 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 1 - Published: 01-08-13 - Status: Complete - id: 3090449
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Black masks.
Baggy sweatshirt.
And a pair of leather gloves.
My identity is a secret now
To the low down vermin whom I am far above.
Unlocked backdoor.
It wouldn't have mattered;
The key is under the mat.
I enter the lair of this filthy, disgusting rat.
Empty beer bottles
Scattered across the floor.
He's probably so drunk,
He didn't hear me come in through the door.
Down the hall I hear deep breaths.
I wish he knew that they would be his last.
Musky air fills the shabby house
And across the kitchen runs a black mouse.
Cigarette smoke lingers all around.
And soon there will be one less person
To fill the house with sound.
The adrenaline
Starts to flow through out my veins.
And the excitement is enough
To renew the cold, hard pain.
That girl on the mantle,
The blonde in the frame.
We shared a boyfriend
You might say that we're one in the same
And from the other room
I think I hear him stir.
That ignorant man
Who cheated on me with her.
I grab a knife
From a cluttered table to the left.
And end soon will a life
Which made my problems rife.
I hear a moan
As he slowly stands up.
Footsteps;
He makes his way down the hall.
And I'm ready for the scene.
I don't dare consider to stall.
A second longer,
And suddenly he's there.
Standing in the doorway
With that dumbfounded stare.
A look of horror as realization hits.
But he doesn't get a moment
Before I crush together our lips.
Just a moment of passion
Before his ultimate end.
One last gesture,
To show what we could've been.
He still hasn't had a chance
To plead for his worthless life
Before I stab him hard with that stainless steel knife.
Blood
It drips onto the floor.
And I smile a delicious smile,
Wishing I had more.
The weapon is held in much too steady hands.
Not the slightest quiver
Most would have after killing a man.
That thirst for more
It still isn't quenched.
So I set off to find that Blondie.
That wench.
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