User:Verance/Tale

There is blood in the cinema seats tonight. There are only two people in the world who know exactly how it got there, me and him. I don't know why I did it, I stopped wondering why I do what I do a long time ago. I stopped wondering why the dead refuse to stay dead a long time ago. I look at the body. He was a healthy man, in good shape and rather strong.

Why does it happen? I can cut anyone anywhere, and it doesn't matter. I have stabbed men in the chest, sliced the kidneys of women, even killed a child I saw wandering the streets, crying for fear. They all get back up. I watched that woman twitch as she bled to her death, and walk away. I watched that child, once screaming for its mother, now begin to scream for flesh. I didn't care, I just watched the blood flow and trickle down into the sewer.

It is amusing. I made a mess of this man. I drag him to the top floor and throw him out. He falls and lands with a crack. He will get up in a few hours. Maybe I will be lucky enough to see it, maybe I won't. The cinema is well barricaded. The show going on outside is better than the one inside.

--Ver