TW: MENTIONS OF ANIMAL ABUSE\MURDER, BLOOD, BODY HORROR?, AND FOUL LANGUAGE!
° Chapter 3 °
° out of my way.. °
- "And.."
"3!" I shouted, pressing down on the sharp blade of the saw, moving it back and forth.
I grimaced as her blood splattered onto my clothes, shoes, and face.
Guess I'll just have to deal with it.
I continued to move the saw back and forth, blood spewing everywhere, until..
"Fuck." I said as I encountered her bone.
That's when an idea popped into mind.
I smirked when I remembered my dad's old bone saw.
I quickly dropped this old rusted one and ran to the piles of clutter around the basement.
"Where the fuck is it..?" I mumbled under my breath.
"Yes!" I shouted out of excitement.
I quickly ran back to her body, oozing blood from the wounds.
I kneeled down in front of it as I held up the saw, examining it.
I chuckled.
"I haven't seen this old thing since I murdered my neighbors dog.."
I smirked.
"Such an annoying animal it was.."
I lined up the saw with her bone and began to move it back and forth.
It took some work but I managed.
I smirked at my progress.
I then moved on to her left leg, right leg, etc.
Doing the same to her other limbs till all were cut off.
"What if all her limbs made a 'POP!' sound when they came off?"
I laughed at the thought.
That's when I noticed her stomach.
"Should I?"
I asked myself.
"Yeah." I said as I quickly ran out of the basement to go grab the knife I had used previously.
I snatched it off the cold, blood covered tiles, running back to the basement.
I ran back to her dismembered body, only her head and torso remaining.
I moved her severed limbs aside into a pile.
I positioned myself, hovering over her stomach, knife at the bottom of her throat.
I then thrusted the knife into her throat, cutting a thin, but deep line from her throat to the bottom of her stomach.
I smirked as I dropped the knife onto the blood drowned concrete.
I used my hands to rip open her stomach from the deep incision I had created.
"Woah!" I shouted in amazement at the sight of her intestines.
I reached my hand in, wanting to pull some out, when I remembered.
Her blood is gross.
I retracted my hand and ran to the kitchen to grab the package of rubber gloves from under the sink.
I slowly and carefully slid them onto my hands, slipping my slender fingers into the holes.
"Boom!" I shouted, holding out my slender, gloved hands to gaze at.
I smirked as I reached my arm inside, grabbing ahold of something.
I then yanked on it until it, hypothetically, 'Popped!' out.
"Oh, cool!" I said, holding up her small intestine, admiring it.
I tossed it onto the floor as I reached my arm back in, seeing what else I could find.
------*•°
- I let out a puff of exhaustion.
"Well, that's done!" I said with a satisfied smile, staring at her makeshift grave.
I had gone out to the forest, her severed limbs and torn organs in a garbage bag.
I used the shovel I had dragged with me to dig a hole big enough for her limbs and torso.
I began to walk back home, covered in dirt, blood and, sweat.
I sighed as I grabbed the mop off from leaning on the wall along with the bucket.
I filled the bucket with hydrogen peroxide and began to mop the cold, bloody tiles.
Luckily, none had gotten onto the living room carpet.
Once I had finished, I moved to the basement, the floors covered in her disgusting blood.
I sighed as I clutched the hydrogen peroxide container in my hand.
------*•°
- I stepped out of the shower with a satisfied sigh. I grabbed my blue towel and began to dry off.
I watched as the remainder of the blood washed down the drain.
I threw on a fresh pair of clothes, grabbing my old ones.
I waltzed over to my parents junk drawer in the kitchen, looking for a pack of matches.
A blank expression rested on my features.
Once I finally found the matches, I walked out to the backyard.
Luckily, my parents had a bonfire.
I grabbed the gasoline and doused the wood.
I threw my clothes on the pit and lit a match.
I threw the match onto the fire and watch as my clothes went up in flames.
"Dazai, you're all mine now..~"
\\ 768 words //
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Temptations.
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