The Beautiful Art Of A Psychotic Mind

𝐏𝐒𝐘𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓 - ❝ 𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒎𝒐𝒔𝒂 𝒘𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏 ❞

Sangre (blood), there's blood everywhere. Bodies of different sizes and colors, shapes and weights. All of them dead, some slowly dying. But yet it's the same thing over and over, not one of them survives, patético (pathetic), is what I could think about them. Has God made man to be weak? I can't believe this sight. All of them, they're patético (pathetic) and weak. 

Weak little bastards. They deserved to die anyway or they would've been a desgracia (disgrace) to mankind; to us all.

"WHY?! WHY WOULD YOU DO SOMETHING LIKE THIS, YOU FUCKING MONSTER!" A particular voice screamed at the top of their lungs, making me cringe at her tone of voice and choices of words. Monstruo (monster), I've always lived up to that expectation, nothing new, nothing old. In the crowd of lifeless and half dead bodies, stood out a hermosa (beautiful) woman. Someone who looked to be tested, a soul with that spark I missed. 

She was somewhat...interesante (interesting).

Without an emotion displayed on my face, I looked at her with lifeless eyes; they've always seemed to be so. I didn't answer her, I don't need to. She didn't need to know my reply because she already did. Well, they always assume that I am a monster either way; a psychopath. A lunatic, a cold-blooded murder. Who was I to shine light on these sorry excuses of humans? 

"Tomarla (take her)." I ordered one of my men as they swiftly nodded and obeyed my command like the loyal perros (dogs) they are. 

Mis perros, mis bestias (my dogs, my beasts). 

"Why the fuck are you touching me?" She snapped, as her hazel eyes filled with rage, glared at my men with such anger. And now I was going to add fuel to the fire. I was going to break her, make her submit to me. Make her obey me like a slave would to their master.

She's mine, mines to break, mines to play with and mines to hurt. From before as well, I reclamado (claimed) her as mine. Everyone knows that, I was the one to out throne el diablo (the Devil), take his place and raise my throne even higher. I was known to be el diablo (the Devil), a king of my own reino (kingdom). 

"GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME, YOU SICK BASTARDS!" She screamed, and this time she has that courage to bite one of my men, who now held his hand in pain. Wow, why am I not amused by this mierda (shit)? Can't they take a little pain? I scoffed at this ridiculous situation and walked towards the little dove. Pretty but weak, patient but weak. Weak, that's all they would be. 

Nothing. But. Weak.

"Now, now, now, hermosa (beautiful). Don't use all your strength to fight my men, they will win. And if they lose, you'll go through el diablo (the Devil)." I warned, the aura of mine turned to that of dark and pure evil. I was him, el diablo (the Devil). No one dares to disobey me, so who was she to glare at me with such rage? All I could do was chuckle darkly at her pathetic reactions. 

That's all you can do hermosa (beautiful), I will make you mine.

"Let me go." Slowly yet threateningly, she said. Looking at my eyes to my gun, wow, the audacity of people honestly is upsetting. Wrong choice hermosa (beautiful). Swiftly, she reached out to grab my gun on my waistband but at that same time, I grabbed her hand, putting the exact amount of pressure and broke it, just like that, making her scream out in pain; oh, the joy.

"This is what you get for threating me amor (love)."

𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒃𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒚𝒂𝒍, 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒃 𝒚𝒐𝒖.