Mistakes are deeds of a single time, if repeated they become choices. This place is stuffed with ideologies, hypocrisy is one of the largest among them. It is a disease with quite an honest face behind which the ugly beast awaits, awaits for the correct minute to strike with its devastating choice which leads towards the arena of shadows where you either eliminate to live or walk towards the edge of being alive. And once you enter into that domain of darkness there is never a sunrise again. Its no more mistakes that are committed, they all transform into dark semi-partial intentional choices. This is the hour an intrigued soul is born deep within a carcass which can even slaughter for the benefit of a little self-serenity. It's a deliberate holocaust.
Time, the most wicked of all, has always done injustice to me. Today it has brought me to experience what I once feared the most out of all. Yes, I am currently spending life behind the bars of the Texas state jail, accused for stealing a meal from a millionaire's resident. That night is a little complicated to be explained because all I remember is that I wanted an end to all the inundated tragedy forever and enter into the real phase of tranquility. But see the amount of misfortune I possess can neither live properly nor die voluntarily. I had lost almost the whole of my consciousness that night when I heard a slight sound of something loud and the next moment I laid there on the hospital bed once again, handcuffed to my right. Since then I have spent hours trying to decode the message provided to me through all of the act. Guess what I discovered, life wants me to walk the entire hazardous path with the constant speed. Those sheriffs that blessed me with another new life were the angels of evil, they had come to rescue the monster in me. To explain, in real I truly don't deserve any of the sympathy or pity, depending on the revelation of just the single dormant portion of my life tale. The note that night wasn't a lie, it was just the passive side or the half-truth of the entire time. I am quite sure that the difference in the two notes would greatly astonish you and all of the compassion would turn into a quick animosity in seconds, but you know what, I don't really give a damn about the cusses. And yes, dare anyone publishes this because if it happens then I am going to look for you, find you and then send my condolences to your family before your body reaches them and I get hanged. So lets begin once again from the hour it all got worse.
It all began 37 years back in time, when a new life was destructed only because two of them wanted some protection less fun but the origination of the nasty business was in the hospital bed after that bone chilling accident on highway 84, which was the first ever attempt for the total end. Yeah, if you can imagine every word from that note, I'm pretty sure you will get to the turn of the wheels and since then its all unseen. The death of Miva Toddler, at the spot was totally out of the plan and surviving the terrific accident too was an unwill. And since the recovery of that incident the barbaric beastie in me has been driving the road. It still comes up with a big smirk when It sees Mr. Toddler's electrified face burning and melting away and getting disfigured throughout. It was terribly amazing to watch him suffer and die in the process of untying the knot in his wrist, it was such a mesmerizing scenery one could ever afford to witness. It was so satisfying to tie those soft wrists together, tight enough to get a clear bloodshot and then into the bathtub filled to it's brim and overflowing with blistering hot water. He couldn't scream inside the liquid so he chose to endure silently until those wires with a good amount of voltage striked him enormously all over the body. I guess he understood my pain that day but to make sure he received a better care, I picked him up and wiped him till he got completely dry with a whole lot of wrinkled skin slipping and falling due the towel's friction and the warm frizzy treatment, and then poured out a full bottle of Bacardi on him and set him on fire and watched him shout with the leftover life while I sat back on the sofa enjoying my moment with a glass of beer with great satisfaction and success. Within a minute he laid there, down on the ground, sizzled and roasted completely. Truly to say I couldn't actually recognize him at first but then the sensuality in me wanted to taste him. I scraped his breast meat out with my bare fingernails and sat there chewing it with great pleasure. He tasted total sizzly and delicious with the beer, his flesh was no less than deer meat, so soft and creamy and melted inside the mouth like warm cheesecubes. I tell you, he tasted phenomenally good back then, I cannot explain the feeling when his hot blood rolled down from the corner of my lips and what made it better was that with every etch on his chest the rhythmic sound of his heart-beat got louder . It was worth the best meal I had ever tasted and once I was done with the whole amount of meat from his left breast, I had nothing to utter except a thank you and a bloody goodbye while he took his last breath and the eyeball moved just a cm aside and then a clear fullstop to his life.
And that was how the deific deity of mine extincted and with him went his house on fire, blazed soon into ashes. I gave it a view of an accident caused by short-circuit and the chapter of the Toddler family was wiped forever. You know, I still see him at times, mainly in the darkest nights. He comes walking towards me with that scorched face and a visible ribcage through which that heart still beats and the dirty blood flows out into clear drops, flowing right down to the feet leaving behind those abnormal footprints dipped in blood paint. When he smiles and talks, those blazed lips, cut from the upper ride side, the bare meat hangs down, visible to the naked sight and spits out blood with every single word. Even the sclera in his eyes have those root like drawings with a burnt shade of color like the ashes, without the eyeballs. That fair skin with patches of flame and spilled blood make him look total unhuman and unreal, just like those horror fiction demons, decorated to scare even the guards of hell. He is the true reason I still live sleepless nights because he does not just appear out but also tries to throttle me breathless with a maniacal laughter and those bizzared black-red teeth popping out like the sharpest dagger. That's a heck of a visionary which shivers my heart . I get overwhelmed with great fear and frustration, all because he has promised a worse ending to my tale.
Its said that we are all born with specific talents and crafted minds, which if not recognized are bounded to get obsolete and annihilated after a particular hour. But what if your self-identified talent is not accepted by the world? Forget about the talent, what if you in character are not accepted or preferred by them? What happens then to your so called talent and aptitude? I guess I am the super example you may happen to look at once to feel the pain and resentment. You see I am not a permanent monster since birth, I am a human made devil by choice. My talent, my ability and knowledge of handwriting could beat many of those white asses warming those undeserving seats. I was much more perfect in my work capacity than my face or color so they kicked me off my dexterity. They required a handsome mannequin with a rag rather than an unlovely one with jewels for the exhibition. So when my last hope of living was pushed away I had nothing better than to run back to the old place.
This time I rang another doorbell and out came a rogue born beauty, it was the daughter of my new master, Miss Alana Dorsky . I stood there frozen, admiring the copious beauty of her face, structure, name and most of all that angelic voice. There were infinite number of thoughts and visuals jogging around the brain, which got me real speechless and dumb. I was so lost into her visuals that I didn't realize when the father replaced the daughter in position. Well, he wasn't even close to any of the charming factors of his daughter, in the first sight none would believe that he could even be the biological parent of her. She was the most fascinating young woman in this entire country, I had ever noticed. Her ocean blue iris made her eyes look like a gem, dazzling enough to hypnotize cupid to the utmost level of affection. Her elegant lustrous silvery hair ran down straight, tumbling over her elbow like a soothing waterfall, leaving behind the fresh essence of perfume as a trace of her alluring image. Every bend in her structure was so voluptuous, as if the mixed souls of Da Vinci and Michelangelo were commanded to sculpt her out. When she broke into a smile, I bet she could sweep anybody off their feet, it was such a beguiling moment where you could get blinded with the shine on her pearl white teeth, a perfect charisma of lure.
It took me about three months to achieve my dream. I worked in the Dorsky palace for the next four months until I decided to move on. So within this short course of time I have had a lot of breakthroughs with my emotions and controls. As I explained Alana was extremely phenomenal in appearance as well in habits, but comparatively both parents of her were awfully dull and imperious in nature. They were too arrogant and would always trot out with their position, dollar made humor. I would have cent percent killed them if it wasn't for Alana to be their daughter because they had surpassed their boundaries with the amount of insult I could hold. I stayed back with a zipped mouth so that I could be near her all the time, I played around her maximum times. But you know, pretty girls always desire the top, and I had always been the plausible slave to them. So I planned a foolproof plot that could probably get me closer to my destiny or even more.
In between these busy hours of racing events and situations I once visited my old birthplace with a hope of finding my creators. So I passed on every single detail which could work as a hint to get to my existence and after a lot of serious harassment I finally got to a very old worker back there at the hospital who provided me with a very familiar address. With all the reluctance, fear and doubt I walked on towards my printed destination and ended up knocking on my current workplace door, the dorsky palace. I went completely lost when Mr. Dorsky stood there behind the entryway with an obnoxious expression. My mind was completely blank with some illogical visionaries and eventually a void scene. Was I in love with my so called step-sister?
Since then I left behind all of my curiosity to see my parents and moreover I actually didn't know what does a family even mean , like what does the term family even mean to me? An environment of hate, taunt and humiliation? I never experienced anything good as feeling or sensation so there is no flaw being in love with Alana, right! To add into it was that, coincidentally I was working for my DAD as a laborer, most probably. I had incalculable number of questions to ask him but then worried that I could be thrown off far from my love, so there napped the idea of a bloodshed and questions. I thought harder about the dream procuring plot and made it even better, no scope for a misstep. I followed every single walk as well talk of my Alana from top to bottom and kept the last words prepared in her handwriting and at one fine dusk I managed to pick her up and straight to my quarters. I remember my doorknob sparkling that particular night as if it waited eagerly to see her. So this was my strategy to settle the flame of rage and intimacy at a single hour. That letter informed her father that she would never be back to pass that threshold again because she had reached the secret of his jest child. Truly saying, I had nothing better up here at that time to note down. I wanted an unknown identity as well achieve my goal of keeping Alana with me forever, so that's what sounded correct to me.
There was never a better twilight ever meant for me. There she rested flat on my mattress and I stood there adoring the complete beauty in the midst of a dull glowing light, focused straight on the face. I stood there paused until she half blinked and the effect of the chloroform started to fade slowly. She was scared and over reactive by the time her consciousness took over her entirely. I could feel the rise in my hormones, they were growing active at a quick rate. Without spending even a millisecond I jumped towards her and wrapped her mouth with my tight fingers, she had hard time breathing so forget about screaming. I could feel the little beastie taking over the moment in me. It was such a fabulous second, I enjoyed the growth of sense in me, the seductive pleasure. Things got too dense and I could no more hold up the excitation and put my tongue right inside her mouth and kissed her forcibly, my sensuality was over the top, I was loosing myself and eventually at that moment things got little extreme. I felt my nails digging into her back, slowly it started to cut through that feathery polished skin and a warm fleshy liquid raced down my elbow. I am sure she wanted to scream out her lungs but there was no such occasion provided. I didn't realize when my hands came up to her neck and started to throttle her. Its part of the affection but then it was getting closer and she choked with a breathless mind. She had started to loose out her consciousness once again but the risen flame in me wouldn't let it end so soon. I watched her faint bit by bit, while the grip of my palm got narrower and the kiss more intense. I saw my love dying with supreme love and care, right over my shoulder. There she rested with great peace and beauty, demise of the Barbie. It was still uncontrollable for me, I got nude quickly and with great precautions and effort I undressed her too. Wow, she was so much more beautiful from the inside than just the face and structure. Her body had got me stunned and startled, i stood like a statue until a drop of saliva fell on my feet because the scenario had got me drooling. I sprung on my garmentless mermaid who was most probably waiting for me to do the act. Now you all know how it works next , right so lets just dive into the uniqueness in my case. I am not a pervert in particular ok but I am really fetish about a specific portion in a woman's structure, the breast. Alana had her breast in a way better shape than even those porn actresses out there. Sensuality gets to work again, watching her lie there naked with her bare skin glowing couldn't stop the crave of hunger, the taste of her. Once again with bare fingernails I started etching on her breasts and soon she turned into a mess, small pieces of meat graved into those gaps of nails and a whole cube of flesh came up on the palm and directly inside the mouth. Her meat was so much creamier than anything and with the hot blood it tasted way past excellence. She looked much more beautiful with those empty blocks of muscle and the complete body sprinkled with her own blood. There was nothing more satisfying than having the thought that she wasn't going to leave me and go forever anywhere now, the three months of dreaming finally came to an end ,in the most perfect and grandiose way.
Since that night Alana hasn't left my residence yet, I remember spending the nest 7 days lying beside her and doing everything with her. She was all that I needed and now that she was here I needed to make sure that she comfortable around here. I continued with my lustful acts for another week because by then she had started to decay into something dirty but I loved her so I didn't really care much of the appearance. I spoke to her everyday about my past life and whole lot of tales. And now that she was with me, Mr. Dorsky had no reason left to live for and me no reason left to keep him away from his eternal rest. So one night I broke in my masters house while he snored, and guess what, fortune had got the lucky road already paved for me. His mistress was at her mother's place that week to settle the whole crying scene due to her daughters note. He laid there snoring to the maximum volume possible, I took a gap and sat there looking at my dad before the little beast buddy took over. The next moments were pretty quick in happening, tied the hand and got him stripped out, with the knife I carried I slowly started to slit his genitals into tiny pieces like mincemeat. Back some years he used this same thing to have fun without thinking of the future result so it was time I got him to realize that thing. I remember whispering into his ears my real identity while I stuffed the chopped off self-meat in his mouth, taste of the fault. He didn't spend much time before passing out dead. I cannot illustrate the joy of that hour by any means of sentences.
Since that day I have hopped into many workplaces and learnt a lot about the world. I am still naïve in the mind because of all the negligence and hatred but they don't matter anymore. Till date I have tasted fifteen types of human meat, women mostly , you know the reason well, but nothing like my Alana. I still have that sensuous and erotic shaped structure of hers locked in a box under my mattress, I suppose she must be suffocated by now cause I haven't spoke to her for half a year now. She is such a fabulous loyal woman, left herself but not me.
I wanted an end that day because Alana had told me to but now when I rewind through myself I guess there is a lot more to witness in life. Its not the time for a mournful end yet, so I know that once I am out from here I must sacrifice the body to the little beastie within and eventually die under the control of him, a normal death, that's what awaits now. I have forever been the prey for the community, only because I wasn't white enough to fit myself through. Never has anybody witnessed the inner me, the psycho me, and the ones who have seen it were never seen by any other being again. So today I live the real me, the maniacal me and I'm proud to be the me. So dear reader, beware I am retarded, never know you may be next....