Lessons Learned

Sometimes you have to know
the right time
To throw in the towel
It’s never easy
But can be very necessary
I hate feeling unappreciated
Like I don’t matter
I won’t make that mistake again

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Danse de la Mort … continuer

*required previous reading Danse de la Mort http://wp.me/p43M7s-ft

club

Marcus walked out of the club exhilarated. He passed the long line of people still trying to get in and leaned back against the wall…he closed his eyes with the memory of her fresh on his mind. The way she moved, smelled, tasted…and that final look in her eyes as the life drained from her. He smiled as he clutched at his pocket, feeling the barbed wire inside & running his fingers over the bloody tips. With a heavy sigh he opened his eyes and glanced around quickly. Adrenaline was still coursing through his veins…he needed another fix and he needed it soon. He didn’t feel comfortable going back inside this place. Motioning to one of the valets he asked if there were any other clubs in the area…the man told him of a great place just a couple of streets over. The quickest way to get there if he wanted was down this street & take the alley at the end just to the right. He could see the hint of lights flashing from the opening to the alley & decided to take that way instead of driving back around. He walked quickly as he could imagining finding another, hopefully, like her, and as he turned the corner into the alley he felt something hit him in the chest as he fell to the ground. Angered at being caught off guard he wrestled with his attacker as the man shoved a knife to his throat demanding his wallet. His eyes seemed black in this light and his breath stunk with the foetid odor of stale whiskey. Marcus laughed in his face, pushing back his arm as the attacker screamed at him and spat in his face. Rage welled up inside him as he grunted & pushed the man onto his back & rolled on top of him, knocking the knife from his hand. He brought his fist down hard into the man’s face, blood spurting from his broken nose as he screamed. Marcus reached for the knife but felt the attacker’s knee in his stomach throwing him on his side out of the way. As he lay on the ground catching his breath he saw the man get up slowly and go for the knife. Glancing to the side he saw it suddenly, lying against the wall, an old rusted claw-tooth hammer lying on a dirty rag.

hammer

Rolling over he reached for it, his hand gripping tight around the handle and as he looked up he saw the man coming for him. He raised up quickly catching the man in the stomach with his head & knocking him back onto the alley floor. Marcus raised his hand & smashed the man’s kneecap with the hammer, shattering the bone as he screamed in agony. He stood over the man, grinning with maddening intent as he knelt down & buried the claw into the man’s chest. The wound would not kill him, was not next to the heart or a major artery. He wanted this man to suffer. Taking the barbed wire out of his pocket he wrapped it around the man’s head, burying the points into his eyes as he watched the blood run down his face. He picked up the rag the hammer was lying on and shoved it into the man’s mouth, listening to him choke & gag. Pulling the hammer free of the man’s chest he knelt next to him with his knee pressing down on his stomach, slowly bringing the head down on each of his fingers, the man writhing in pain beneath him. As he rose he shoved the claw of the hammer deep into the man’s groin, laughing as he watched him try to grasp & remove it with his busted fingers. He stood next to him, smiling as he saw the blood on his face mix with tears. He reached down & pulled the rag free from his mouth, covering his face as the man coughed & spat trying to take a breath. He picked up the man’s discarded knife, and reaching into his mouth grabbed his tongue & ran the blade over it slowly. The man’s head began to shake as he tried to wrench it free from Marcus’ grasp but it only made him grip tighter. He pulled as hard as he could before slicing off the man’s tongue with a single stroke, watching him choke on his own blood as his mouth filled with the crimson fluid. He carefully removed the barbed wire before rising again slowly & pulling the hammer free, wrapping it, the knife and the wire in the rag & stowing it in his inside jacket pocket. And then he waited…the man’s coughs became less frequent as his body convulsed in the throes of death, his lungs filling with blood still flowing from his wound. He watched the man’s chest rise & fall as he took his last breath. Looking around again he noticed a few bushes on one side of the alley & carefully hid the body there, making sure not to get any of the blood on his still pristine clothes. This had been an unexpected surprise…and as he turned to walk towards the club lights he wondered what other treats this night held in store for him.

TOK 39

“The character Marcus is based on Matt Farnsworth’s character The Orphan Killer” All rights reserved”

*story finale – Danse de la Mort – Fin http://wp.me/p4FERj-Kc

Tired Heart

I am almost at that point
where I just don’t care
anymore
so very tired
of feeling used
and betrayed
good friends
people I thought
were closest to me
have caused me pain
and tears to fall
so few
so very few
are they
I can truly count on
maybe
I care too much
the love I feel
runs too deep
when I am hurt
it tears me apart
and I feel dead inside

dead

Forgotten

forgotten

Sometimes you make me feel lost
You tell me you care
how important I am to you
that you love me
but your words mean nothing
empty promises
like a knife in my heart
daily I struggle
with your constant absence
feeling ignored
days pass by with no word
& suddenly you are there
like nothing ever happened
you don’t understand
how unhappy I am
miserable
like I can’t breathe
you are everything to me
but to you
I feel like I’m nothing

fine

Fragile

Sometimes I’m not sure
Why I even bother
It’s never good enough
Your words cut so deep
Like the sharpest razor
Flailing my skin from the bone
You act so unaware
Even when you do understand
Throwing out your apologies
It changes nothing
The hurt remains
It cannot be forgotten
My shell remains broken
A bloody, shattered mess
No one else
Wants to repair

broken soul
*Fragile Broken Soul zophie.deviantart.com

Death’s Soliloquy

*required previous reading Death’s Revenge http://wp.me/p43M7s-gd

grim 9999999
*A Date With Death kimsol.deviantart.com

I sit in wonder
at the strange beauty
she brings to this place
this place of nightmares
it seems so much brighter
since she came
the blackness receding
into the farthest corners
of my mind
yet still
her maddening delight
in her surroundings
brings a chill of warmth
to my dark soul
I am witness to it
every day
these vile creatures
try to run
escape their fate
but her light
draws them nearer
she is a beacon
it is useless
they cannot stay away
it is their downfall
their ultimate doom
she is cause
for their suffering
and revels in it
without emotion
or remorse
oh how I love her

GRIM 9999
*Where Angels Fear To Tread robhas1left.deviantart.com

*continued … Queen of Hell – The Dark One http://wp.me/p4FERj-dR