My forehead glistens, beading with sweat. The look of horror on your face, reflected in front of you. My stony glare is uncaring. Disgusted. Ambivalent to what my knife does. The flesh has no meaning. I dig deeper. The more blood there is, the further my eyes recede upwards into my sick brain. Ecstasy. Agony. Your torment, my laughter. Your cries of pain. My pleasure.
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1 PsychopathyRed 2019-05-01
My forehead glistens, beading with sweat. The look of horror on your face, reflected in front of you. My stony glare is uncaring. Disgusted. Ambivalent to what my knife does. The flesh has no meaning. I dig deeper. The more blood there is, the further my eyes recede upwards into my sick brain. Ecstasy. Agony. Your torment, my laughter. Your cries of pain. My pleasure.