Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Labored Days - Body Count 96

Took the week off to recuperate after this weekends activities. Spent a few days with Candace, trying our best to ignore my legal predicament. She has been invaluable to me over the last few weeks. Maybe given time she can rise above her "human" status and become enlightened. She was called into her office on Sunday evening cutting our time together short. It fascinates me that she jumps and runs whenever they pull her leash. That will have to be the first string cut for her to become illuminated, but I digress. Left to my own devices I got the itch to kill. I wasn't in the mood to hunt, just to hurt. After a quick trip to a hardware store I boarded a train to one of the city's seedier areas, the kind of place overrun by hookers and junkies. These areas always have a special place in my heart. They are almost universally void of police or authority of any kind. The cattle here live by their own rules or lack thereof. A society unto itself, void of the usual niceties plaguing the rest of the cattle. I found a streetwalker that was a little rough around the edges and would surely be missed by no one. It told me it could blow my mind for $50. It pulled me by the hand towards a nearby building. I had to resist the urge of jerking my hand from its flesh crawling touch. The building was obviously a squatter commune. Mattresses and empty liquor bottles littered nearly every square foot of the floor. A few residents were off in various parts of the building, too far away to make out any faces in the darkened building. The hooker led me to a candlelit room that served as its "office". It got down to brass tacks and asked for the money. I handed over two $20s and a $10 to greedily waiting hands. When the whore turned to pocket the money I quickly pulled out some duct tape and violently covered its mouth. It kicked and struggled against me, but I easily subdue the beast, binding hands and feet with tape. I stood over the prone hooker, watching as it writhed in terror. I could feel myself hardening at the anticipation. I removed my store bought hammer and went to work. A calcium deficiency was quite evident as bones snapped like dried twigs with each swing. In a few short blows the streetwalker have become jelly in a tube top. The dim candles gave the pool of blood an enchanting quality. Possibly the best $50 I've spent.

No comments:

Post a Comment