scottums (![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} scottums) wrote,@ 2005-10-24 14:03:00 |
|
More
She was trapped in the corner of her bedroom. She tried fighting to no effect. The phone wasn't working. The man kept patiently walking towards her. She had fallen into a fetal position on the floor begging "pleasedontkillmepleaseno"
"Why?"
The man's voice was calm and reasonable. The woman was taken out of her fear enough to respond "What?"
"Why shouldn't I kill you?"
The woman's voice trembled "Because it's wrong. Because the police will get you."
"The police, my dear, will not stop me. I am beyond their ability to stop. And the concept of right and wrong are so fluid, despite what certain moralists say. I find exploring the human body during the moment of death pleasurable as well as the effect my acts have on the sheep we laughingly call society."
He removed a long thin knife from his coat and stared at it. "The question you should ask, my dear, is why you should live?"
She stared at the knife, nearly hypnotized by how its edge catches the light from her digital clock. She tried to answer but she couldn't think.
"I understand" the man said gently. "It's hard to think with the animal instinct to survive pounding in your head and your veins. But if you think about it, your existence really is unnecessary. Your appearance will not inspire artists to create. Your intellect will not broaden anyone's understanding. Your talents are minimal. You are simply a minor clog in a big machine. All you truly contribute is piss, shit, and carbon dioxide."
Her tears flowed again. But not from fear. His words were cutting through her.
He drew closer to her. "But I offer you something precious. You will become more. You will be a symbol to so many: the capriciousness of modern existence, the need for greater strength in adversity, the danger of freedom unbound by caution. Your life will be studied for years to come to determine what made you special to me. Your body will be measured to see all the twists and turns my explorations of your flesh take. Your name will live on, carved into history with my bloody blade."
He held out his hand. She found herself taking it. He led her to her bed and laid her down. A few flicks of his wrists and she was naked before him. She gave no resistance when he tied her to the bedposts. She found her heart beating faster, but not from fear.
She asked in almost a whisper "Will it hurt?"
He smiled. "Oh my, yes."
She was trapped in the corner of her bedroom. She tried fighting to no effect. The phone wasn't working. The man kept patiently walking towards her. She had fallen into a fetal position on the floor begging "pleasedontkillmepleaseno"
"Why?"
The man's voice was calm and reasonable. The woman was taken out of her fear enough to respond "What?"
"Why shouldn't I kill you?"
The woman's voice trembled "Because it's wrong. Because the police will get you."
"The police, my dear, will not stop me. I am beyond their ability to stop. And the concept of right and wrong are so fluid, despite what certain moralists say. I find exploring the human body during the moment of death pleasurable as well as the effect my acts have on the sheep we laughingly call society."
He removed a long thin knife from his coat and stared at it. "The question you should ask, my dear, is why you should live?"
She stared at the knife, nearly hypnotized by how its edge catches the light from her digital clock. She tried to answer but she couldn't think.
"I understand" the man said gently. "It's hard to think with the animal instinct to survive pounding in your head and your veins. But if you think about it, your existence really is unnecessary. Your appearance will not inspire artists to create. Your intellect will not broaden anyone's understanding. Your talents are minimal. You are simply a minor clog in a big machine. All you truly contribute is piss, shit, and carbon dioxide."
Her tears flowed again. But not from fear. His words were cutting through her.
He drew closer to her. "But I offer you something precious. You will become more. You will be a symbol to so many: the capriciousness of modern existence, the need for greater strength in adversity, the danger of freedom unbound by caution. Your life will be studied for years to come to determine what made you special to me. Your body will be measured to see all the twists and turns my explorations of your flesh take. Your name will live on, carved into history with my bloody blade."
He held out his hand. She found herself taking it. He led her to her bed and laid her down. A few flicks of his wrists and she was naked before him. She gave no resistance when he tied her to the bedposts. She found her heart beating faster, but not from fear.
She asked in almost a whisper "Will it hurt?"
He smiled. "Oh my, yes."
