Genocide - The Best Kind

Its scream penetrates the air like the crack of a high-pitched whip. The cold air stabs at its bare flesh, forcing a pale white colour to seep through, encasing its body in a porcelain coat.

They always fucking scream.

I smile weakly at the table of four, and lower my arm so I can give them their meals. I feel foul just being near them, their faces staring up at me in awe as I deliver their dank plates of death.

After being waved away by the father I walk away from the table, moving towards the counter. Closing my eyes, I breath in deeply.

I trace my finger across the oozing rift in its chest, sliced effortlessly by a "holy man"'s tool: the scalpel. I grin as the blood pours out faster with every touch from my fingers; the warm, sticky liquid staining my own skin.

Satisfied with my mark, I step back and watch the strip-light illuminate the silver hook burrowing into the back of the human's neck, blood seeping into a neat little puddle at its feet. I can almost taste the agonising pain being preached through the creature's bloodshot eyes.

"Orrrrder up!" screams some snotty nosed punk in the background. I grimace as my hands reach for the white orbs drowned in blood and gore. The smell hits my nose and I almost gag.

I suddenly giggle to myself as the endorphins kick in; the giggle soon erupts into a full-scale manic laugh. My low voice rising and falling, ricocheting off the steel walls, beating the drums in the mammal's ears. The sight in front of me was just so...ironic.

Man: master of the land, fisher of the sea, hunter of the forests, conqueror of the skies; all this and yet in a tiny moment of weakness, He falls. Falls into the trap Mother Nature set for Him. How pathetic. How predictable.

Once again my face splits into a completely fake smile. My hate radiates off my skin only to be hidden by these terrible striped shirts. "Enjoy your meal"

I set the metal device back onto the bloodstained desk, the crimson liquid falling from it and onto its brethren. So many tools are spread out in front of me, chosen specifically to drag out the punishment. The punishment for being born.

I just feel so giddy at the idea.

A deep breath and I drag the saw from the top of the wooden corpse, rage filling my bones as even a table reminds me of what they've done. The anger fuels the fire in my eyes as I stare deeply into its own, shoving my beliefs into its slowly fading mind.

I grin as I mentally sum up last night in one easy sentence.

The last thing that creature's gonna know before it leaves the world it didn't deserve, is the pain that it does.