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Creative Writing: Vincent England

Decent Essays
The warm blood runs over my fingers as I grasp his throat, digging my fingers into the deep, seemingly endless wound where my blade had danced only but a minute ago. His body is convulsing slowing coming to a halt by the second as I look into his eyes while watching the life drain from from them and into my soul. I bet my dad would be proud now, as he would always look into my eyes with the look that he would have his hands wrapped around my throat, dangling my body in the air until I pass out. Furthermore, I would wake up sore and bloody, however, I gift them death. Nonetheless, this would end their suffering which I never received.
As my father urged my mother on these binges that took place, he knew he would come down from them, however,
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There was a time when I felt remorseful, also feeling weak, which has already been discussed. With my beautiful black handcrafted serrated blade, I decided to wipe the blood on a mans muddied and blood crusted shirt, this made me aware of my own thoughts which disguted me but I just laughted it off. Holding my machete up admiring the swift curves etched into the handle, looking up at the blade, as it shines confirming my efforts of succees. Therefore, as I glance at John Doe's face, now slightly discolored, he was such an easy target due to hiking through the paths of a nearby wooded area, asking to be killed, with his eyes nearly begging me. As I pull out the saw and begin sawing the bones, starting at his ankles, his flesh begins to divide at the touch of the saw blade, as the smell of his flesh and blood hit my nose, I being to smirk, and inhale. Additionally, I lick my dry lips pressing into his bone, hearing the snap of his bones beneath the pressure due to the tension giving, beginning the process of mutilating, and making him disappear. Then I began pouring acid into a makeshift tub which I used yesterday to prep for my next weeks meal, 6 point buck due to hunting being a way of my life; running away at 15 I found this torn down and abandoned log cabin where I have been living off the land and had been reeking of my past. Nonetheless, I did not learn much through my childhood, except learning how to make it on my own. In addition with my parents getting drugs instead of acquiring things that other individuals with common sense knew was needed such as food. Many times I would have to scavenge through trash cans or search for editable berries and mushrooms in wooded
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