Full Brutal

by Kristopher Triana

It wasn’t that I hated people. I was just happier when they weren’t around. Well, maybe not happier, but at least less miserable.

His self-disgust in this moment of failure made me want to touch myself and so I did,

The real pleasure lay in making them give in to temptation, making them hate themselves for it, to live with both the fear of being discovered and a terrible, crushing guilt that would never fully fade.

there is no power as thrilling as being able to completely decimate another human being, to demoralize and deconstruct their very soul until all that’s left of their fragile sanity is frenzied, blurry tatters. It makes a girl feel like a goddess.

For so long now my daydreams had been caked in blood. Gore dominated my sexual fantasies as a relentless obsession. Whenever I was close to someone—to anyone—I thought of slaughtering them and playing with their entrails.

hurting people is an art, and I enjoyed it in all its many forms.

People keep others from jumping off the ledge because they don’t want to have to scoop brains off their front porch.