Status: After seeing The Purge last night I had to write a story about it :D
My Sacrificial Lamb
One
No one truly knows how satisfying it is to break a window until they’ve done so. The glass breaks far too easily, giving one a sense of power they don’t actually have in regular life. I do this now before I enter the house. Could I have taken a quieter, more courteous approach to my entry? Of course I could’ve. But there’s no fun attached to courtesy.
By breaking the window I’ve done two things: alerted my sacrifice and heightened my hunting experience. I can feel the monster inside me rising up to take hold of the reigns of my control, and I give my thanks to God for this day of Purge.
Quietly I creep through the home, careful to keep my ear tuned in to subtle noises such as breathing. My fingers ache with the urge to pull my gun but I must have self-control.
Ah. Stop. I hear an exhale, soft and feminine from the closet down the hall. This is too simple; I want to drag this on a bit longer. My feet make no sound as I slide across the shag carpet to the closet. I shift to the left and make a creak slice through the near silent air. Intentionally, of course, to scare her. Is that a gasp? It is, poor dear. But someone must be sacrificed, and she should feel honored to be mine.
What stupidity, to have hidden yourself in a place with no lock on the door. My sacrificial lamb is bleating as I drag her out into the hall by her hair. Good Lord, the hatred inside me is almost unbearable. It must be quick, then, for I can see the lightening of the sky through the broken window indicating my time is almost up.
She continues to scream, phrases overused by the common man, high-pitched pleadings that she must know I have no sympathy for. Does she really want to live this badly? I raise my gun to silence her incessant shrieks and fire three quick shots directly into her wide open mouth. And now there is peace.
Since she is already on the floor she doesn’t fall very far, but that’s alright, for she still bleeds a great deal. I find I quite like the mess she makes with her blood.
“Thank you, little lamb.” I whisper to her rapidly cooling body. The monster is coiling back into the pits of my gut, and I breathe a sigh of relief, for I have been blessed with this release. Feeling properly renewed I take my leave, through the door this time, and follow the sidewalk to my house to sleep off the rest of the Purge. My prayers for my sacrifice’s soul can be heard as I walk.
By breaking the window I’ve done two things: alerted my sacrifice and heightened my hunting experience. I can feel the monster inside me rising up to take hold of the reigns of my control, and I give my thanks to God for this day of Purge.
Quietly I creep through the home, careful to keep my ear tuned in to subtle noises such as breathing. My fingers ache with the urge to pull my gun but I must have self-control.
Ah. Stop. I hear an exhale, soft and feminine from the closet down the hall. This is too simple; I want to drag this on a bit longer. My feet make no sound as I slide across the shag carpet to the closet. I shift to the left and make a creak slice through the near silent air. Intentionally, of course, to scare her. Is that a gasp? It is, poor dear. But someone must be sacrificed, and she should feel honored to be mine.
What stupidity, to have hidden yourself in a place with no lock on the door. My sacrificial lamb is bleating as I drag her out into the hall by her hair. Good Lord, the hatred inside me is almost unbearable. It must be quick, then, for I can see the lightening of the sky through the broken window indicating my time is almost up.
She continues to scream, phrases overused by the common man, high-pitched pleadings that she must know I have no sympathy for. Does she really want to live this badly? I raise my gun to silence her incessant shrieks and fire three quick shots directly into her wide open mouth. And now there is peace.
Since she is already on the floor she doesn’t fall very far, but that’s alright, for she still bleeds a great deal. I find I quite like the mess she makes with her blood.
“Thank you, little lamb.” I whisper to her rapidly cooling body. The monster is coiling back into the pits of my gut, and I breathe a sigh of relief, for I have been blessed with this release. Feeling properly renewed I take my leave, through the door this time, and follow the sidewalk to my house to sleep off the rest of the Purge. My prayers for my sacrifice’s soul can be heard as I walk.