It had been two weeks since he had first seen the young man who now lay on the snow covered ground in agony. It hadn't been difficult to gain his trust; it was never difficult to get any of them to trust him. Now the course of this gullible boy's life depended entirely on his own moods and whims. That thought caused the sadistic lips to curl in a slight smirk. He saw himself as a deity of life and death who could end suffering or end a life with a single action. Without empathy, pity, remorse or regret. He smiled to himself as he watched the poor creature gasp before exhaling his last breath. "Oh, that was far quicker than I expected. They usually last longer," he lamented, "well, at least I have time for a coffee before work now. You're lucky that you can't feel how cold it is out here!" The man wiped his blood-covered gloved hands on delicate white ice and his victim's equally pale visage. Taking a moment to admire his own artistry, he knew t...
His house was filled with warmth, delicate aromas of perfume, and innumerable beautiful things. His dreams and fantasies were tactile illusions, only realised within these rooms and hallways. Eyes closed, he saw nothing and everything all at once as he drifted further into his own intricate world. The colours were vivid - almost tangible - and the sensations of this space were unbearably intense. This was where he belonged. His house may have been made of bricks and mortar but his home was here in the vapors of imagination, swirling like wind, disturbing the dead leaves of thought. As his eyes opened, they were drawn to the velvet curtains covering the eye through the papered facade. Tentatively, he moved the fabric draped against the dirty glass aside and glanced at the view beyond. Through the pane he saw a desolate wasteland of grey truth and decimation. Broken bodies and dying embers caught in razed structures. He felt his hands begin to shake and let the soft material drop from t...
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