I was feeling somewhat sadistic. Had an itch and I needed to scratch it. Some what follows is just a blood fest. Splatterpunk fun. Nothing new, just death anniversaries that I'm remembering and a decaying mentality. I do have to say Batman pulls me through [such a great fucking character to read]. Anyway. My head hurts though so enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated.
Homeless Harry's Halo.
Leonard never stopped.
His fists dove with the speed of falcons scraping the lake surface trying to catch fish and he pulled away just as much flesh with each hit. The blood from the four tooth pickpocket popped in the air like fireworks and I stood by mesmorized, wanting to say OOH and AAH. Homeless Harry's eyes retreated deeper into their sockets searching for protection from the abuse. The nose cracked five fists before and now each contact reminded me of fresh cut meat being slapped onto the counter at the butcher's shop, moisture oozing out of the carcass.
Leonard cackled in delight. Homeless Harry's hands grasped at Leonard's neck, but Lenny would push them away and continue with the massacre. He shouldn't have pulled a knife on Lenny when we confronted him. Now it laid under my foot, within reach, but unusable. He started to grope at the ground, looking for anything to hit Leny with, but his fist fluttered down again, a defeaning crack as the jaw bones cracked and moved two inches to the side before falling limp into his neck. Choking on the blood gathering in the back of his blocked throat, Homeless Harry prayed in the back of his soulless eyes. If he survived, he'd have to have his face wired back together. Rebar-head the school bus kids would call him.
Lenny reached into Harry's mouth and pulled his tongue out, took the knife from under my foot and stabbed it through the bottom of the jab, holding the tongue up. Harry gagged on the blood and Lenny rolled him over onto his stomach. The cotton swab of sympathy before the needle with your death in the syringe is applied. A black puddle that shone in the moonlight seeped from his chalk outline and towards the sewer grate. Lenny twisted his fingers into the back of Harry's gray and brown knot of grease strands, then smashed it into the sidewalk. The bones in the forehead cracking and piercing the brain. I thought he'd be dead, but his hands twitched, still groping for something. Trying to drag his mangled body out of hell. He shouldn't have spit.
Standing, Lenny wiped his blood soaked hands on the back of his jeans and then ran his hands through his black mange, tying it behind his head so that no matter who you were, you could see the fury of hell in his eyes. They burned with a passion that Lust would be envious of. The shadows cut across his face, enhancing the bone definition and the scar that ran from the corner of his right eye down the outside of his face to below his lips. His native blood burned on his flesh and his temper held in his hands.
Bending back over he reached underneath Homeless Harry and jerked the knife out of his tongue. He grabbed the grease knot again, but pulled upward, dragging the knife around in a full circle, before twisting the hair and pulling it off the top of the scalp. I don't know if he deserved this, but he shouldn't have tried to rob us. Leonard tossed the hair into the street near the grate and flipped Harry over one last time. Lenny reached into the back of his throat and pulled out the tongue dragging the blade across it and severing it. He held it up in the air and sniffed his prize, blood dripping into the permanent stain on the ground, glowing in the night. Homeless Harry's halo.
Lenny licked the limp tongue before biting into it and chewing the raw meat. He took his time to chew his prize from the battle. Not stopping till it was all gone.
Some tribes believe by ingesting the bites and pieces of your enemy you absorb their strength.
He pockets the knife and heads down the street whistling.
I stare into the puddle of mushed muscle and brain matter. He was just trying to survive, he didn't deserve this.
My stomach spills into the mass and I wipe my mouth on the back of my jacket, lay it over the body, and head off after Leonard. Jealous of Homeless Harry's halo.
Homeless Harry's Halo.
Leonard never stopped.
His fists dove with the speed of falcons scraping the lake surface trying to catch fish and he pulled away just as much flesh with each hit. The blood from the four tooth pickpocket popped in the air like fireworks and I stood by mesmorized, wanting to say OOH and AAH. Homeless Harry's eyes retreated deeper into their sockets searching for protection from the abuse. The nose cracked five fists before and now each contact reminded me of fresh cut meat being slapped onto the counter at the butcher's shop, moisture oozing out of the carcass.
Leonard cackled in delight. Homeless Harry's hands grasped at Leonard's neck, but Lenny would push them away and continue with the massacre. He shouldn't have pulled a knife on Lenny when we confronted him. Now it laid under my foot, within reach, but unusable. He started to grope at the ground, looking for anything to hit Leny with, but his fist fluttered down again, a defeaning crack as the jaw bones cracked and moved two inches to the side before falling limp into his neck. Choking on the blood gathering in the back of his blocked throat, Homeless Harry prayed in the back of his soulless eyes. If he survived, he'd have to have his face wired back together. Rebar-head the school bus kids would call him.
Lenny reached into Harry's mouth and pulled his tongue out, took the knife from under my foot and stabbed it through the bottom of the jab, holding the tongue up. Harry gagged on the blood and Lenny rolled him over onto his stomach. The cotton swab of sympathy before the needle with your death in the syringe is applied. A black puddle that shone in the moonlight seeped from his chalk outline and towards the sewer grate. Lenny twisted his fingers into the back of Harry's gray and brown knot of grease strands, then smashed it into the sidewalk. The bones in the forehead cracking and piercing the brain. I thought he'd be dead, but his hands twitched, still groping for something. Trying to drag his mangled body out of hell. He shouldn't have spit.
Standing, Lenny wiped his blood soaked hands on the back of his jeans and then ran his hands through his black mange, tying it behind his head so that no matter who you were, you could see the fury of hell in his eyes. They burned with a passion that Lust would be envious of. The shadows cut across his face, enhancing the bone definition and the scar that ran from the corner of his right eye down the outside of his face to below his lips. His native blood burned on his flesh and his temper held in his hands.
Bending back over he reached underneath Homeless Harry and jerked the knife out of his tongue. He grabbed the grease knot again, but pulled upward, dragging the knife around in a full circle, before twisting the hair and pulling it off the top of the scalp. I don't know if he deserved this, but he shouldn't have tried to rob us. Leonard tossed the hair into the street near the grate and flipped Harry over one last time. Lenny reached into the back of his throat and pulled out the tongue dragging the blade across it and severing it. He held it up in the air and sniffed his prize, blood dripping into the permanent stain on the ground, glowing in the night. Homeless Harry's halo.
Lenny licked the limp tongue before biting into it and chewing the raw meat. He took his time to chew his prize from the battle. Not stopping till it was all gone.
Some tribes believe by ingesting the bites and pieces of your enemy you absorb their strength.
He pockets the knife and heads down the street whistling.
I stare into the puddle of mushed muscle and brain matter. He was just trying to survive, he didn't deserve this.
My stomach spills into the mass and I wipe my mouth on the back of my jacket, lay it over the body, and head off after Leonard. Jealous of Homeless Harry's halo.