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a house of ill repute!”
harlots was butchered.
Like meat hooks you’d see in a butcher’s shop,
They’d been gutted, their throats had been slit, and their faces were caved in.
this memory was a horrible one,
a hotbed of violence, evil, and wickedness.
free will had been yanked away from him,
“What have you done?”
tarnished by morbidity and murder.
Another pound of flesh
ailed with depravity.
barbaric, ruthless, and primal.
the kind of lust he only felt at the sight and smell of blood.
Oh, the things he had done to her.
how easy it had been to use a knife to unzip her belly.
how much her organs had jiggled as he continued to fuck her dying body.
a freak. An animal. A monster.
if you only knew how much I’ve wanted to hurt you . .
Not without blood and panic. Not without screaming and weeping and begging . .
He had fucked the last girl for hours, even after she had gone cold.
Cripes.
fumes seep between his teeth, as if his insides were heating up with rage.
a thin sheath of translucent skin.
Run! Run! Run! Run! Run!
“It’s okay. It’ll be over soon.”
Ocular pulp
holes drilled into her brow
She’ll suffer nicely, won’t she!”
“God wants you to hurt,
I wanna go home. I wanna go home. I wanna go home—
“You’ll do as you're told!”
Yellow fat curdled beneath the purpled musculature.
It was, frankly, foolhardy for one to even presume they would be allowed exit simply because they had been allowed entrance.
