I enjoy watching people cry. It is not because I am a sadistic bastard, it may sound like it but I really am not that kind of person. I just want to see the expressions, the eyes that water and the red under their eyes, more than that it is so fun watching someone beg with tears.
There are times I would get one of my friends to watch a gut wrenching movie and watch his face covered in tears when a character dies. It isn't like I don't feel emotions. I do, just not the right ones.
Ah-
Haha it is fun, really fun!
I said everything with a straight face toward the tears streaming down the face of a middle aged man. His skin is pale, freckles around his nose and bronze waving but elegant hair. It had little bits of dull grey hair. He wore a suit and black pants which matched his dark brown eyes.
The middle aged man clenched his teeth before he spat at the ground in disgust and I grabbed his chin and came close. I could see the swollen eyes and the dried and cracked lips. He sniffed his nose and tried pulling away.
I stood up from the cold stone grey ground covered in dust with the texture of rough stone and swept the dust off my black pants. Looking back at my toy which said no words in my presence. Everything about him intrigues me, something just feels right.
I sat down at the chair in front of him before I took out a knife from my tool box and kicked it over to him. The knife reflected the light from the dulled lightbulb from the ceiling which dangled in front of us.
He looked up and saw my dead expression turn to a slight smile. I saw him stay in the same pose sitting there with the ropes around him which tied him to the chair. I could see a slight hope in his eyes, his pupils dilated before he tried to get free.
The chair fell to the side from the middle aged movement and I watched as he fell to the right and he hit his shoulders then his head on the cold hard ground. He coughed and moaned before his breath got heavy trying to grab some air and moved toward the knife that I tossed over.
He bit his off-white teeth on the cold brown leathery handle before he crouched in a cradled position and cut the ropes with a sawing motion. The saliva was flowing down from his mouth and it was just him doing that for the next few minutes.
After a long hurdle he finally cut the rope and slightly out of breath he was able to stand up but he was hunched over and breathing heavily as he took the knife from his mouth with his hand.
"Are you killing me or not?"
I said with a monotone expression.
He ran toward me as hard as he could and stumbled and fell in front of me right into my lap. I could feel his heartbeat, it was fast and made me feel awe.
Seeing my smile he clenched the knife before trying to stab my leg with it.
The knife dug deep, it cut the cloth of my pants before it hit my skin and I could feel a sharp pain before it slowly went in and the layers of cells ripped apart.
I grabbed the knife from my leg and the hand of his and put it toward my neck.
"Do it here next."
His hand loosened before he sighed and fainted.
I don't get it, but I can't kill him. No, I won't kill him. He is too fun to play with, that's it.
I grabbed the backpack behind me with bandages and cleaned myself up before J detoxified the knife and cleaned the blood off and put it back into my bag of tools.
I put his sleeping body onto the front seat of my black car, like a sleeping child he sits there with his seatbelt.
Driving him back to the inner city after being in an abandoned factory for over three months was not what I had originally planned, but somehow I ended up doing so.
Arriving at his house I checked the surroundings before I lifted my hood over my head and dragged him into his house. The room was clean and I could smell the fragrance of cucumber shampoo in the room.
I quickly put him in a sleeping position on the couch and covered him with a blanket and left like a ghost.
Walking over to my car I saw the lights in the room turn on. Looking back I saw him sit out and look out the window and look at me. I gave a wave and opened my car door and started up my car. Still seeing his figure I looked at him with a joyful expression I am sure he won't be able to see and looked forward at the path ahead of me.
I don't know how but this was my first time not killing my toy, I drove away singing a nice tune.
Maybe I won't need to kill to feel alive anymore.
I thought to myself before I saw something on the passenger seat. I stopped the car on the side and turned on the car lights to read it. The envelope had my name on it, Noah Blake.
Opening the letter I noticed the blood on the bottom which was stamped by a fingerprint. It was written in blood, it was brown and slightly smeared. I started to read the following outloud in the dark :
Dear Noah,
Come back. I knew.
I looked back at the house with the lights on before I put the gift back on the seat. Trying to decide what to do I looked forward in the distance before looking back again. I sighed and started the car.
Maybe I should drive back.