One Shots

Next Contestant pt. 2 Gory Demise

After I slit his mouth, I begin the torture. First, I gently press my claws into his upper arm and slowly cut it open. Then I repeat the process on his other three limbs. After that, I give up on taking things slow and just go nuts. I smile gleefully and grab him by the throat and slam him into his coffee table, shattering the wood and glasses sitting on it. I originally planned to just use my teeth and claws, but I think I'll use the glass as well. I pick up the bastard and throw him across the room, sending him back first into the television.

"On a scale of 1-10, how hard was that throw?"

I frown when he actually manages to rasp out,

"Eleven..."

"Damn. You can still talk. Not hard enough. That, and I know that throw was at least a fifteen. Since we're breaking the scale anyway." I run to him in a nanosecond and grab him so I can launch him across the house again. This time I get his head stuck in the wall.

"Oops."

In another nanosecond, I'm by him again.

"Jesus fuck, that's a big melon. Really did a number on the wall."

I grab a broom and shove it up his ass, tearing a hole in his pants just because the idea popped into my head at random. I then proceed to stomp on his back, snapping his spine. While all this is happening, his screams fill the air.

"Alexa. Play Daywalker on full blast."

I continue to beat him to the music as it blasts over his screams. After I was done, I decided I wanted to go back to the slow torture. Surely by now the other effects of the Arsenic would have kicked in. 

"Hey. Feeling a little crampy?"

No reply. I hear his heartbeat, so he isn't dead yet.

"Did the bitch pass out already? Damn. Pansy."

I scoff and lay him down on the couch. I get a container of frigid water and dump it on his head.

"Wake up! No sleeping till I put you down myself! Permanently!"

His eyes flutter open.

"Good! Now, I asked you a question! Are. You. Feeling. CRAMPY?!"

He nods, much to my satisfaction.

"Thank you!"

I go refill the container with hot water. To my delight, his tap water gets hot as hell. Someone could brew tea in it without heating it. I dump it on his head as well. He tries to scream, but he can't. All he ends up doing is making his pretty little grin tear open wider. I love that method. I teleport a box of thin nails into my hand and open it.

"Left or right?"

Henry doesn't respond. He just looks at me with pleading eyes.

"I guess- No. Hold on."

I slowly shove the nail into each of his eyes.

"There. No more begging. That's annoying."

I then begin to use the nails as pins and close the slit. Well, sort of. I don't worry too much about actually closing it and just focus on causing pain. When I'm done with that, I press my index claw into the hollow of his throat and puncture it. Then I slice from there all the way down to the top of his belt. And I take my sweet time too.   Deathwalker is two minutes and 32 seconds give or take. Before starting, I told Alexa to play it again. Then I cut him open over the entire length of the song. Plus a few more seconds. Then I asked the robot to play One Step Closer, which is two minutes and 37 seconds in length. I wasn't done when the song ended. I did the rest in silence. Ripping. Tearing. Shredding. Over the course of several minutes, I finally force apart the layers of flesh still holding his gut together. I relish in the feel of his warm, slick blood washing over my fingers. I spit in some of the wounds, letting them heal just so I can have the pleasure of reopening them. Then I get back to work. I take out his intestines and my force them down his throat. After that, I resort to some seemingly more common methods. Electrocution.

"Ooo.~ I just thought of something."

I teleport a bottle of 90 proof alcohol into my hand and open it.

"This might possibly sting."

I start pouring the flammable, stinging liquid into his wounds.

"Hey. I would like to try to smooth things over with you. Do you think that could be possible?"

He says nothing, though I can hear his heartbeat.

I go look for an iron. When I find one, I plug it in to the nearest outlet and set it to high. The smell irons give off when on starts to waft through the air. When it reaches Henry's nose, he opens his eyes and his pupils dilate like a curious cat's. Fresh tears well up and roll down his cheeks, making new trails in place of the ones that had just barely started to dry. All this brings me great joy as I eagerly wait for the iron to heat up.

"Awe. Don't you want to be friends? That can't happen until we straighten things out. As long as you don't end up being stiff." I hold up the iron with an impish grin. Looking from the outside in, one may call me sedistic. They are correct. I wrap up the murder by setting Henry on fire. He didn't catch immediately though. The alcohol helped, but it still took a few tries of dropping lit matches into his wounds before the flames eventually caught. With each lit match came an attempt to scream with ruined vocal chords. With each scream attempt came the sound of tearing flesh. With each sound of tearing flesh came another burst of joy. And that joy made cleaning my mess more fun. By the time he died, I had cleaned the house to perfection. But before I started cleaning, I sadly had to put him out. We're inside after all. He had quit screaming, so it was safe to turn off the music and open the windows, so I did. Now everything but the cooked body is spotless. I cleaned with gloves, so my fingerprints won't be on the cleaning supplies. Soon, I hear sirens. That would be bad, if it wasn't for the fact that I cleaned away my DNA. I teleport to my car and drive away, gloves in my pocket and away from the forensics lab.

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And, that wraps up the two shot. I kind of want to write a short epilogue, but I'm not sure if a two shot is worth it.