"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Sean
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Internet de geso~
[ *  * ]
Stillness.

Joe's adrenaline rush from the kill faded as his hands loosened their grip on the scythe, causing the blade and the unfortunate man's corpse to fall. His hands quivered on the shaft of the weapon as he saw the blade, entering the man's upper neck, tearing his throat open, and the last few gouts of blood spurting out.

Realization.

He dropped the blade. The contents of his stomach rose to his mouth, as he fell to his knees and vomited, tears flowing from his eyes. He'd just killed a man. Not only that, but he'd done it cruelly. He'd torn the man's leg open, nearly castrated him with his bare hands, and stabbed him through the neck with such force that he was lifted up a few inches off of the ground. He'd seen his victim gasping for air, blood pooling in his lungs, and taken a sick pleasure in it.

Acceptance.

He was the monster now. The case for killing him was now stronger, and his desire to die increased in turn. There was truly nothing left for him.

Joe bent down next to the cadaver, shut its eyes, and fished through his daypack for his wallet. He then removed a quarter from his wallet and set it on the dead man's mouth.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. It was a futile gesture to someone he had just murdered in cold blood, in his despairing fugue, but there wasn't a whole lot he could have done to atone.

The blade of the scythe, slick with fresh blood, slid easily out of the corpse's soft tissue. He wiped it clean with two fingers, set it in his daypack, hefted the heavy bag up, and walked off.

((Joe Rios continued in To Die Hating Them, That Was Freedom.))
Edited by Sean, Jun 14 2011, 11:50 PM.
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Quoth Super Llama:
 
One day, the fabled Ragnarok will come, and as the gods descend to earth and wage war while the world dies around them, WickedIcon will lead the charge, a 12-gauge shotgun in his right hand, and a bottle of Jack Daniels in his left as he rides a steed made of fire and pain.

And the masses will look upon him and weep at the beauty of it all.


Quote:
 
[19:25] Hallucinogenic: it's not like i wanna put my anus on parade


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04:26MimiOH
04:26MimiTHAT'S LESS BAD
04:27MimiI THOUGHT SHE HAD TO JERK OFF MONKEYS
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Endings & Beginnings · The Felled Forest: South