Status: Active
The Blood on His Lips
New Paint Job
“I-I-I swear! I don’t know where they are!” Jason Carl begged, looking up fearfully into the dark crimson eyes. “P-please! Don’t hurt my family, they never had anything to do with this!” His body was shaking and sweaty, and he thinks he might have pissed his pants a little bit.
Jason had a very good reason to. All around him, his co-workers lay scattered on the floor, blood leaking out from some hold or scratch caused by the man currently holding his collar. The blood was splattered against the walls—“A new paint job,” the man had called it—and he swore he could see a heart somewhere.
The man chuckled, an overly-large canine flashing in the dim light, and Jason tried to repress a shudder that racked his body. “I would worry a little more about yourself than I would them, Jason,” the man said darkly, sadistically. Then his face turned dead serious. “Now tell me where they are, and I might make your death a quick one.”
“I-I swear I don’t kn-know!” Jason cried. The man sighed. “You’re going to make this much more painful than what it originally would have been…” With that, the man began to dig his free hand into Jason’s chest, nearly pushing past the barrier of the rib cage. Jason screamed. “A-alright! I-I’ll tell you!”
“Where are they?” the man growled, pushing his hand deeper.
Jason winced. “H-Huntington Beach… California,” he panted, the blood dribbling from his mouth. The man gave a smile, and said wistfully, “There, now was that so hard? Thank you, for your time, Mr. Carl. Enjoy the afterlife.”
Then man proceeded to clutch Jason’s heart, and Jason could feel himself dying, and everything stopped then the man crushed the organ right in the palm of his hand. He enjoyed the feel of the red liquid seeping through his fingers and down his arm, it was simply divine, there was no other feeling like it. He grinned as he watched the life drain from Jason’s eyes, then pulled his hand out, allowing the body to drop to the ground next to his colleagues, and then proceeded to walk away.
Huntington Beach, eh? Well, that was certainly a long while from Chicago, Illinois, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was finally going to get what he wanted, and not a thing or person was going to stand in his way from his prize.
Jason had a very good reason to. All around him, his co-workers lay scattered on the floor, blood leaking out from some hold or scratch caused by the man currently holding his collar. The blood was splattered against the walls—“A new paint job,” the man had called it—and he swore he could see a heart somewhere.
The man chuckled, an overly-large canine flashing in the dim light, and Jason tried to repress a shudder that racked his body. “I would worry a little more about yourself than I would them, Jason,” the man said darkly, sadistically. Then his face turned dead serious. “Now tell me where they are, and I might make your death a quick one.”
“I-I swear I don’t kn-know!” Jason cried. The man sighed. “You’re going to make this much more painful than what it originally would have been…” With that, the man began to dig his free hand into Jason’s chest, nearly pushing past the barrier of the rib cage. Jason screamed. “A-alright! I-I’ll tell you!”
“Where are they?” the man growled, pushing his hand deeper.
Jason winced. “H-Huntington Beach… California,” he panted, the blood dribbling from his mouth. The man gave a smile, and said wistfully, “There, now was that so hard? Thank you, for your time, Mr. Carl. Enjoy the afterlife.”
Then man proceeded to clutch Jason’s heart, and Jason could feel himself dying, and everything stopped then the man crushed the organ right in the palm of his hand. He enjoyed the feel of the red liquid seeping through his fingers and down his arm, it was simply divine, there was no other feeling like it. He grinned as he watched the life drain from Jason’s eyes, then pulled his hand out, allowing the body to drop to the ground next to his colleagues, and then proceeded to walk away.
Huntington Beach, eh? Well, that was certainly a long while from Chicago, Illinois, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that he was finally going to get what he wanted, and not a thing or person was going to stand in his way from his prize.