New Story

Greetings to anyone that still bothers to check in here. The likelihood of me continuing this story is pretty much nil at this point. I apologize for leaving things unresolved but I just don't have the desire to finish. For those who don't know I do have another blog called Celebrity Amateur Nudes (It's NOT porn). It's a silly little outlet for me and some of my warped views.

I also just published my first short story on Kindle. It's called "Full Moon Dreams". It has some of the same depravity enjoyed on A Sound Mind. The story is available for download here.

I look forward to continuing to publish stories and hearing from anyone that cares to acknowledge my existence.

Bryan

ATTENTION READERS:

A Sound Mind is going on a temporary hiatus. Over the past few months I've begun to lose my way with the story. What started as a cathartic, stream of consciousness writing has dwindled into a largely ignored writing assignment. I hope to regain some focus and perspective to continue the story with a greater resolve. In the meantime I am working on other stories to be published in other arenas. I will continue to update my Twitter account for current status on coming projects.

Thank you

Bryan

In Trouble For The Things I Haven't Got To Yet

Woke up in an airport on the other side of the country this morning. The cattle surrounding me spoke with peculiar accents and paid no attention to me. Had it not been for the public address welcoming travelers I would have had no idea where I was. When "Boston" registered in my brain a sinking feeling laid upon me. I had no earthly reason to be there. My phone had no messages or email. My calendar read "vacation" in bold letters through all of this week. When I read Tuesday on the date bar it seemed so foreign to me. I remember spending the night with Candace on Thursday. Four days of no account. The blackouts are getting worse. After a few minutes of bewilderment I headed to the restroom to collect myself. In the solitude of a stall I began to rifle through my coat and pants pockets for clues. I came across a plane ticket to take me back to the city. I found some comfort in that minute detail being resolved. In the left breast pocket of my coat I found a small container holding two bright green eyeballs. They answered at least part of the reason for coming to Boston. The eyes were quite exquisite. Just looking at them I could feel the blood engorging my member, imagining the pain and suffering that yielded such an exotic treasure. Tearing myself away from the objects of my attraction I continued my search. It didn't reveal anymore surprises. After a quick splash of water to the face, I returned to the concourse more attuned to my surroundings. I surveyed the area for police, spotting a few at the far end laughing and joking over coffee and doughnuts. About an hour later I quietly boarded my flight and drifted into a dreamless sleep.

Working out the Frustration - Body Count 97

Been a very trying week. Had to pony up just under ten grand to make my legal troubles go away. Someday very soon that waste of flesh is going to have to reap what it has sown. With Candace busy with my predicament and her other workload we've barely seen each other. I found myself missing her. It's amazing how much I've come to depend on her in carnal matters. Coupled with all of these matters, it was Laurie's first week of work. Her youth and personality captivated much of the office. She held my attentions for most of the week, fantasizing about violating her in ways she's only dared to think of in terrible nightmares, taking liberties with each of her orifices and maybe cutting a few more. When she's had her fill I'll open her ripe flesh to release an ocean of red. By the time Friday rolled around I was a walking powder keg of lust and violence. A stalk around the Loop seemed like a pleasant way to spend the evening. I was meet with an unexpected surprise when I stepped of the train platform - Oktoberfest. The cattle never cease to amaze. They hold a festival named for a specific month in the wrong fucking month. Unbelievable. On the plus side, the mock German festival provided plenty of drunken targets of opportunity. Walking through the beer garden I quickly spotted several ideal candidates. I also spotted several cops. An overwhelming hatred for the officers crashed over me like a wave. My attentions quickly shifted to the cops. Killing them always presents specific challenges, but it also grants a special rush other kills rarely yield. I focused on a veteran officer. They usually make easier targets. They're slower and more self consumed making it easier to get close to them undetected. My prey eventually walked away from the crowd, as the cops always do. It settled into a spot behind some of the stationary beer trucks to have a cigarette. I easily crept up to slit it's throat from behind and left before it's body hit the ground. I prefer to relish in the kill but part of the experience of slaying law enforcement officials is to escape undetected.

The Process

Though I am loathe to admit it, sometimes the most mundane chores make living amongst the cattle palatable. With the economy crawling back to it's knees the company has decided to invest in more employees. I've been conducting interviews for the last two days. It's been a parade of resumes and degrees with barely distinguishable faces. I can feel the wear on my "human mask". It cracks a little more with each idiotic syllable that spews from their mouths. This morning I was taken by surprise. A young brunette fresh out of college entered my office with a certain presence and confidence exuding from her. I must admit I was a little dumbstruck when Laurie began to introduce herself. Her deep blue eyes were penetrating and forceful. I quickly became lost in them while she prattled on with the rehearsed lines her professors had drilled into her head. As the words trailed off and become a dull roar, I could see myself opening her flesh very slowly with a nice, sharp blade. Her skin would retract from its cold hardness before I pierced her. How those magnificent eyes would light up with the first thrust. I would paint the walls gory red and bathe naked in the crimson river of her. As the conversation came to a close blood was rushing to my member with each hastened heart beat. We each said our closing pleasantries and parted ways. I think I'm going to hire her tomorrow.

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.

Like Buying A Hooker

Candace spoke to her former brother in law's attorney yesterday. It's willing to drop the assault charges for a to be determined sum of money. This complicates matters for me. The money is inconsequential. It has more to do with the principle. That waste of flesh and bone was going die by my hand in a gruesome manner to begin with, but now I have to pay for the pleasure. Not really sure what to think of that. Regardless, it's death is going to require some reconnaissance and some clandestine moves. A simple, elegant murder is out of the question. It may be possible to orchestrate an accident of some kind. A fiery car crash is always a crowd pleaser.