(Shortstory #10) His Nature

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Too much fluff, lets add a pinch of darkness and angst





It was but a little attachment, that soon grew deadly throughout the years.

He had the patience, and the perseverance.

But one thing he could not allow.

Was to feel manipulated.


You felt the blood scarlet sputter out of your lips, your glassy eyes only looking down at the silver glint that dug deep beneath your stomach. He still held you, like a doll, as his breathing became heavy at each whimper you gave out. You felt it twist your insides, as the sharp white pain surged through you, though as thin as paper it spread the agony on your stomach like wildfire.

You sharply hung your head after the knife was twisted once again, now destroying your intestines and other significant organs. You only yelped once again, your body weakened enough to not scream out in pain, since the fight left in to you had drowned away. The laugh of a small boy could be heard, hearty but crueler it sounded after every passing second.

He killed your parents.

He killed your friends.

He killed Laurie.

He saved the best for last, being the one and only person he had grown to love in his past childhood. Yet his twisted, and psychotic mind deemed to ruin everything, and he soon gave in after. You could only stare back at the white mask, its black sockets emotionless as ever, yet you looked closer, only to see the blue iris that held rage and corruption. You coughed up harshly, feeling the blood now seep inside your punctured intestines as you felt the bile mix with it. You couldn't understand how you were still hanging on by now, yet your face was still glued onto the other male, who still held the knife inside. You tried to sputter out a sentence, only to make your coughing fit worse than before as the red tainted your blouse. He only tilted his head, examining the work he had done to you.

You looked so beautiful, so broken, so perfect when near to death it almost made him feel overwhelmed.

He took in every twitch and shake of your pain and tears, as you slowly began to lower your eyelids. With his other hand that still kept the weapon in place, he used the other one to lift his mask up, and he leaned over til your mouths were centimeters apart. With a light and long kiss, you felt his chapped lips smother into your own as he almost tasted your own blood. He pulled away after a few seconds, examining your now hallow body. Your figure began to relax, the once shaking hands began to stop, and it wasn't before you dropped like a rag doll, the sharp knife only becoming the support. It only tears more into your flesh, and Michael took everything once again, loving your peaceful soulless form as he pulled the weapon out of your stomach. Your body only dropped on the floor with a thump, and now assuming you were lifeless, he crouched down.

She is gone now Michael

You can no longer feel weak

You can no longer feel ill

Love had lost its definition, locked up and caged away in the deep depths of the back of his head. Only to be replaced by a facade, that only specified it as a weakness, as a threat.

He only felt the slightest pity, before it washed away once again to be shredded by his sadism. He pulled down the mask back on, tasting the blood that was on the side of his lips before bending down. He picked your lifeless body up, your limbs dangling after every step he took downstairs. As he went out, sirens could be heard, yet there was no police, screams can be heard, yet it was only the rain. His drenched jumpsuit continued on, leaving trails of blood that soon washed away from the waters.

With a special person comes with a special grave, he intends to find one suited for your body to be in peace.

He loved you after all.

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