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“Are you sure?” She asked him, shooting a furtive look at the people around them.
“Positive.” He assured her.
Humans are willing to be comforted by anything, they’re that desperate. They surround themselves with things that make them look good in front of people. Their predictability for the unpredictable is what makes my job so damn easy.
What is my job you may ask?
My job is my life.
You picture me as the little mutant with horns and a nice little shade of red. I am sadistic, ruthless. I have been called Satan, Iblis, Lucifer, and countless other names.
You may think of me as such things, but see, that’s my job.
And no, I am not as mean as you cretins think. When you plea to me, I do listen, it’s just I’m sick and tired of the whole thing now. It’s not fun anymore to rip your guts out and hear your infallible screams. The wails, the moans, they stir my heart in a peculiar way, that isn’t rather pleasurable anymore.
I don’t know why this has
But I do not feel pity. After all, I am the devil.
Yes, I have finally introduced myself in a simple manner, without the embellishments.
I am the devil.
The devil, yes the devil.
But anyways, let’s carry on to our two normal humans. They are so preoccupied with themselves, their petty little lives. So pretentious. So self-absorbed. They are unable to see the ugliness surrounding them when they see prettiness in themselves.
“No, I really think someone’s after me.” She whispered.
He held her close, pretending to make her feel safe in his arms. “Nobody’s after you, hon. Everything is going to be alright.”
Does he know about the nightmares, the ones that leave her shaking with fear hours after?
Does he know about the voices in her head?
And yet, he is willingly going on with her façade, to pretend that yes, everything is going to be alright.
I’m fascinated by these two. I’m not sure why, it’s the false happiness that make me feel happy. The guy is so hell-bent on comforting her. And the girl, well, she is being tormented by herself it seems.
“But the dreams, they seem so REAL! Like, there was this one time where this mutant torturing me, and yet I’m still ALIVE, and it’s…it’s…”
(Awesome? Beautiful? Amazing?)
“Horrendous.” He whispered quietly. God knows how the guy wasn’t getting freaked out over this. He has a penchant to be calm no matter what. This is a quality I rather admire in a person, the way someone can be calm even though the people around him, the people that he loves the most.
How can he cope? How can he be so, so unruffled at this mental picture? His girlfriend being eviscerated?
“Don’t worry. Say what, how about we go to your place tonight?”
“No, I can’t…I just can’t concentrate right now. On anything.”
“I’m really sorry.” she says.
She gives him a gold-green ring. He smiles, and pockets it.
They head off. Off in another direction. I swiftly follow.
“Look, I have to go now.”
Bye it is.
I decide on which one to follow.
The girl. She’s much more interesting.
I swiftly run after her.
She walks back to her house, sniffling all the way home, shooting terrified glances here and there. I felt a tiny twinge of pity for her.
The door opens. She steps in.
The house looked rather normal, just a little empty. Sunlight was streaming in from the windows, and that seemed to comfort her somehow.
“I need a shower.” She mumbles, and heads upstairs.
Five minutes later, she goes into the bathroom.
Followed by screams.
Screams of torture, despair, the worst kind. Gut wrenching, horrifying screeches of pain. Followed by moans, and then…
Oh dear Lord, what is going on in there?
The door opens.
“That was horrible.” I mutter.
He laughs. “I know, pathetic.”
“You should have done a much cleaner job.”
“I know, but she was trying so hard to get away. I had to do something.”
“Oh please, you know the quick route.”
“Yes.” He smiles. “But I wanted her to suffer.”
He brings out a gold-green ring.