I am scared, scared of what I might end up doing.
Currently it is 11:09 in the afternoon, I just moved into my newly bought house near my college I am attending. Throughout the day I kept on thinking horrid things. No, wait! More like fantasies than thinking.
I woke up today early, I believe it was 5:05 when I woke up and I couldn't fall back asleep. The thoughts kept me up until I decided that I should just get out of bed.
I can hear the thoughts in my head clearly even when I try ignoring them it sounds like my internal voice telling me different fantasies.
It is currently Saturday, so I was free today to do what I need.
Throughout the day I could only focus on the words, I even started just sitting there listening to it tell me tales upon tales.
These fantasies get graphic each time I try imagining what I think to myself. Is this really what I think of?
Why do I think of such horrid things?
Even now as I write this, I see the images in my head that are connected to the voice.
The way I hear, no, see the bodies I wonder if I enjoy these.
Many include different thoughts of homicide and different artistic ways of showing off the corpse to the public. It is so tacky to be honest.
Do I enjoy them? I do think back to these thoughts often, ah. There is one in particular that catches my attention.
The fantasy starts like this!
I believe it told me,
""You should convince that guy over there to be friends with you!"
Who?
"The one with the blue shirt that is tucked into his pants while he looks around. He has black hair that is dyed that color and a relatively young face. I may be a monster to you, but I don't go for ones younger than me."
I don't think that's any better.
"Come on, I will show you some scenarios to convince you, it will be fun. The best moment you will ever have in your life."
Please don't not again
—————
"Please don't kill me, I beg you stop it. Please let me go! Please. Please. Please. Please."
He could be seen with tears and snot rolling down his face while I grabbed him by the neck, and I could see the smile on my face.
His eyes shook noticeably, and the tears kept rolling down with the swollen eyes and the blood that came down from his head as I slammed his head against the hard concrete floor. The blood that was of a dark red that was gloopy and very slimy started spilling onto the floor.
I could see his eyes losing momentum before he cut his eyes and fell into slumber.
When he awoke, he could see himself sitting in a chair and strapped to it. I looked at him while I grabbed a long tube that was clear plastic.
It had water in it, salt and was full of sand. I would grab his face while he was trying to loosen himself.
While he struggled, I made a reassuring statement that seemed to threaten him.
"If you want to live, follow my instructions."
He nodded slightly in horror, and I continued.
"I shall feed you this delicious water, if you can drink it all I will let you leave. It is a promise, I do have my own morals too."
Although he didn't fully trust that statement he nodded while I held the tube up to his face. I look at him while I put the plastic tube in his mouth. I turned the water pump on, and I told him to drink.
He quickly closed his eyes and started drinking the water. Slowly his stomach started to expand while a few hours past blood started to leak out from his nose and mouth. I stared intently at his eyes as it started to roll up.
I could tell from the blood that his stomach had ruptured by the massive amounts of water entering his esophagus and into his stomach.
He looked at my eyes before his eyes rolled back and he died from the ruptured stomach. I could tell that I was saddened by the loss of a toy.
I sighed before I started cleaning him and the area around me. Although it was a slow process it was cleaned well with bleach and a scrub where I added soap to clean up the sand and rocks around the basement. To clean up the blood I had used hydrogen peroxide, it was a well cleaned place aside from the dead body cleaned and sitting on the chair he was originally in.
I went over to the body before I grabbed a kitchen knife from a table beside me and started cutting the skin. As I cut the arms blood started dripping from the knife and onto the ground. I slowly cut the two wrists before I took a sewing kit from the same table and heated it up with a lighter, I had prepared beforehand.
I started to sew the skin back together. The burns could be seen, and I started to cut some more at different places which included the different muscles where one would stretch themselves.
As I looked at my watch after I finished making a beautiful masterpiece, I saw the time was 7 in the afternoon before I stuffed him and some tools in a bag. I also took everything he brought to my house and got into my short red car. I put him in the trunk before I started driving to a forest near one of the police stations.
As I came to a clear area, I took everything with me into the forest.
I sat him up on a wooden platform that was black. I stuck some skewers into his legs into the stand which I personally prepared for. He was in an elegant pose where one arm was up in the air and his hands in a fan like position.
While his one hand was up, his other was in front of his waist which seemed to show his mindfulness of asking for a dance. His feet were stuck onto the wooden platform where he stood with his body sewed up and him in a black suit with white button downs and a tie which was of his blood.
I took everything he had with him and cleaned up any traces of my existence and his phone deleted everything and cleared everything, all before I smashed it and every piece of it and scrunched it up into tiny pieces. Although it was broken, I kept it with me as I walked back to my car with the hand that was sewed on and up in the air.
The man's arm was chopped off and sewed on before getting ripped off his torso once more.
Getting home I cleaned everything, from hair strands to the things that were touched by him. After getting out his phone I went down to the basement to grind it into smaller pieces similar to sand.
As I put the man's hand in a jar, I labeled it, Park Do-Yun.
—————
"Beautiful, isn't it? The police will enjoy that show all right. A brutal serial killing where someone was forced to have his stomach ruptured by me and made into a doll-like toy that dances in the forest for everyone to see."
Morbid, I shouldn't be thinking this about some stranger I saw. "
Maybe I should ignore the words I think about.