The Foul World
The Foul World
Neither love nor hatred, no feeling for this world in which I am cursed to live in. The language, which my tongue speaks, is evolving into such arrogant and disappointing manners. The ones who make it this way, the Neanderthals that I’m forced to live with, making it into a language of filth. Looking from my own window, the streets of the city, all I see are people who try to be things that they would be better off not being. Gangs, Prostitutes, Homeless, and hell even the ordinary people walking the street. Each and every one of them, are making this world into the trash in which I watch. And my job you may ask is? Why I am talking about all this? Listing each and every word on this page? My job is to cleanse this world, to wipe the filth off this world. Murder, which is how I shall clean up this world, fixing which others, had screwed up with the stupidity they have. What makes me different you may ask? My intellect, surpassing their own, the knowledge in which runs through me, shall never be wasted by these vermin, these trash in the living. Killing the history I know, the mathematics, the scientific properties, with their living styles. Making all in which needs to be known, forgotten and never to be learned again, then who will be able to teach it if no one knows what it is? Knowledge is what needs to make the world, but these bastards that roam this world is killing it, by making their “slang” and own “history” which is deserving of being forgotten. Language skills, turned into smaller words that insignificant in a dictionary or in writing. Yet other brain dead fools accept it, letting it kill the beautiful English we once spoke. Where has it gone? As I see, murder will make it all better. To finally make this world learn the real knowledge that exists, rather than the knowledge these foul demons in which walk the earth teach like it’s real.
The Red Knives, a local “gang” in my city. They take kids straight out of school, stopping true knowledge, and teaching other things. As such that what they were originally learning, was like a lie? But it was no lie, only truth. But they make it seem like brain-wash, as it is not such. My first step in purity of this world, to see that they never see day-light again and their blood is spilled.
Two blocks down from my apartment complex, in which I am forced to live at with such low income, The Red Knives use a warehouse as a little “hideout”. Even during the night, each member sleeps. Though some do keep awake, to keep watch that no cops come, or any rival gang members. I sneak onto their turf, so easy for them not to see me. I took classes for the army 3 years ago, just to learn not join a war that as well defeats common knowledge. The first guard, bigger than me, as well as more muscular but bound to be as brain dead like every other member in there. On my thigh, a hunting knife resides, I slowly reach and remove it from the seethe that currently holds it. Behind the man, I creep up slowly, my final footstep; I intentionally make a sound so he turns to me. As he makes his turn round, I quickly stab upward, the knife stabbing into his jawbone. For a quick kill, and to assure he will not yell to alert others.
Two guards outside left, the second one around my size, though he is holding a shotgun. A little tougher for that I need to make sure he doesn’t let off that shotgun. That would not only alert the other guard, but the leader as well. I watch as the guard walks towards where I currently hide, as he must check for his job. As he goes to the spot, I quickly cut the wrist which has the finger on the trigger, grabbing the gun and throwing it to the side. Before a scream leaves his mouth, I move my hand to cover it, and stab him in the neck so no air will leave. His body collapses over, with the knife still in his neck. I bend over, ripping it out of his neck. From the help of a street-light, I see a shadow approaching behind me. The third guard had heard the gun hit the ground, coming to investigate saw me. As the second guard, he is also the same size of me. But holding a machete instead of a gun, sneaking up to me then slashing down with the very weapon of which I told. Quick as a reflex, I jump from the path of the weapon coming down. With me out of the path, the machete slams into the corpse of the second guard. From when I land after dodging, without hesitation or a second thought I tackle down the third guard slamming a knife into his stomach and twisting it around.
Now for the rest of them, everyone in there must die as well. None of them are innocent of killing culture, and knowledge. Taking some gasoline, spreading around the warehouse, as well as the walls to make sure they cannot escape from the fate I have past decided. Pulling a bag from the shadows, inside being two-dozen Molotov Cocktails ready to be thrown inside. Luckily I have no need to break the windows, since they were broken before from age and war. Lighting the gasoline outside, the warehouse already begins to smoke and begins to fully light on fire, blazing soon. Inside you can hear the fools of men, and sluts panic. I begin to light the rags in the Molotov Cocktails and throw them in. All in different directions and multiple strengths so they won’t land in the same place and waste one. Soon finishing, the screams of terror from the people inside soon seize. I couldn’t help but smile that they were finally dead.
For some reason though, I couldn’t hear anything anymore. My own laughter, my own footsteps, they were all silent. It confused me, but I paid no mind to it, the time was to celebrate their deaths not worry about something that wouldn’t disturb me until I need it for a reason. To finish this job, I drag the guards bodies to the fire, letting them be cremated you could say. Picking the shotgun and machete up, maybe I could use them for when I am punishing more fools and cleansing even more of this world.
Walking away from the site, several cars pull up. The lights flashing around, red and blue, being they were Police Officers. The Police Officers then get out of their cars, pulling out pistols and using their own very doors as shields. As I stare in confusion, they point their guns at me as well as yelling something. Forgetting that my hearing has been lost, I question why I am hearing nothing. Without noticing my right arm, which is holding the shotgun that I took from the second guard, is rising up aiming at the cops. My eyes open wide, as my body is shot at in all directions in front of which I stand. From the fact I raised my shotgun, in defense they fired at me, protecting their own lives.
My body drops, dead. The story I have written ending, not being able to purify this world from the trash that is thriving. But in death, I am realizing things. That what they are teaching was knowledge, that it’s their own knowledge. A difference of such knowledge, something I could’ve learned if I have tried. But I gave no chance, I assumed with no common sense. And for that, my being has died before I could have learned more. Maybe something which some people teach is lies, so you need the second side of a story to learn more. A message I want others to learn, not everything is knowledge without the second part of it. My mind is fading away, good-bye.
The Red Knives, a local “gang” in my city. They take kids straight out of school, stopping true knowledge, and teaching other things. As such that what they were originally learning, was like a lie? But it was no lie, only truth. But they make it seem like brain-wash, as it is not such. My first step in purity of this world, to see that they never see day-light again and their blood is spilled.
Two blocks down from my apartment complex, in which I am forced to live at with such low income, The Red Knives use a warehouse as a little “hideout”. Even during the night, each member sleeps. Though some do keep awake, to keep watch that no cops come, or any rival gang members. I sneak onto their turf, so easy for them not to see me. I took classes for the army 3 years ago, just to learn not join a war that as well defeats common knowledge. The first guard, bigger than me, as well as more muscular but bound to be as brain dead like every other member in there. On my thigh, a hunting knife resides, I slowly reach and remove it from the seethe that currently holds it. Behind the man, I creep up slowly, my final footstep; I intentionally make a sound so he turns to me. As he makes his turn round, I quickly stab upward, the knife stabbing into his jawbone. For a quick kill, and to assure he will not yell to alert others.
Two guards outside left, the second one around my size, though he is holding a shotgun. A little tougher for that I need to make sure he doesn’t let off that shotgun. That would not only alert the other guard, but the leader as well. I watch as the guard walks towards where I currently hide, as he must check for his job. As he goes to the spot, I quickly cut the wrist which has the finger on the trigger, grabbing the gun and throwing it to the side. Before a scream leaves his mouth, I move my hand to cover it, and stab him in the neck so no air will leave. His body collapses over, with the knife still in his neck. I bend over, ripping it out of his neck. From the help of a street-light, I see a shadow approaching behind me. The third guard had heard the gun hit the ground, coming to investigate saw me. As the second guard, he is also the same size of me. But holding a machete instead of a gun, sneaking up to me then slashing down with the very weapon of which I told. Quick as a reflex, I jump from the path of the weapon coming down. With me out of the path, the machete slams into the corpse of the second guard. From when I land after dodging, without hesitation or a second thought I tackle down the third guard slamming a knife into his stomach and twisting it around.
Now for the rest of them, everyone in there must die as well. None of them are innocent of killing culture, and knowledge. Taking some gasoline, spreading around the warehouse, as well as the walls to make sure they cannot escape from the fate I have past decided. Pulling a bag from the shadows, inside being two-dozen Molotov Cocktails ready to be thrown inside. Luckily I have no need to break the windows, since they were broken before from age and war. Lighting the gasoline outside, the warehouse already begins to smoke and begins to fully light on fire, blazing soon. Inside you can hear the fools of men, and sluts panic. I begin to light the rags in the Molotov Cocktails and throw them in. All in different directions and multiple strengths so they won’t land in the same place and waste one. Soon finishing, the screams of terror from the people inside soon seize. I couldn’t help but smile that they were finally dead.
For some reason though, I couldn’t hear anything anymore. My own laughter, my own footsteps, they were all silent. It confused me, but I paid no mind to it, the time was to celebrate their deaths not worry about something that wouldn’t disturb me until I need it for a reason. To finish this job, I drag the guards bodies to the fire, letting them be cremated you could say. Picking the shotgun and machete up, maybe I could use them for when I am punishing more fools and cleansing even more of this world.
Walking away from the site, several cars pull up. The lights flashing around, red and blue, being they were Police Officers. The Police Officers then get out of their cars, pulling out pistols and using their own very doors as shields. As I stare in confusion, they point their guns at me as well as yelling something. Forgetting that my hearing has been lost, I question why I am hearing nothing. Without noticing my right arm, which is holding the shotgun that I took from the second guard, is rising up aiming at the cops. My eyes open wide, as my body is shot at in all directions in front of which I stand. From the fact I raised my shotgun, in defense they fired at me, protecting their own lives.
My body drops, dead. The story I have written ending, not being able to purify this world from the trash that is thriving. But in death, I am realizing things. That what they are teaching was knowledge, that it’s their own knowledge. A difference of such knowledge, something I could’ve learned if I have tried. But I gave no chance, I assumed with no common sense. And for that, my being has died before I could have learned more. Maybe something which some people teach is lies, so you need the second side of a story to learn more. A message I want others to learn, not everything is knowledge without the second part of it. My mind is fading away, good-bye.