“You don’t need to convince me. Because there are absolutely no gods here.” The smirk on my face disappears and is replaced by a thin line. My chest is heaving, and my heart is pounding. My body temperature has reached dangerous levels, and I can almost smell it. Once this asshole realizes that I am not playing around, the air changes in the room.
It’s like even the dust particles have settled, the air holding its breath. You can hear every sound more clearly, and I love it. The thumping of his heartbeat is so loud that it’s echoing off the walls. The floor beneath me is holding me down. Not for long.
I grab the knife from the little table and hold it at the end.
“What are you doing?” he asks me with trepidation in his voice. I let out a chuckle, pointing the knife at him.
“Did you honestly believe that I would let you go?” He couldn’t possibly think I would do that. His eyes widen.
“Yeah, you promised me. Now give me the suitcase before I fuck you up!” he screams at me. The only way he could fuck me up is if I need to listen to his grating voice any second longer.
“I didn’t promise you shit,” I answer calmly.
“How could you say that? Dear Lord, I—”
I cut him off. “Enough!” My voice courses throughout the entire apartment. “I told you, there are no gods here. Only me. And do you know what I am?” I ask him. My fingers tighten around the knife’s handle, and I know I am doing the right thing.
The asshole shakes his head.
“I’m the devil. And my face will be the last thing you will see before you die.” And that does it. This wise man lunges at me, but I duck and get on my knees. Before he looks down at me, I stab him. Right in his dick. With his little knife. A dangerous contraption in the hands of a killer, if you ask me. I feel the blade piercing through his micro-dick. It’s like the little knife is an extension of my hand right now, and I can feel it piercing through his rotten flesh. And to no surprise, he has a limp dick. I feel like I’m cutting through Jell-O. Eugh.
I look at him, and a big red spot is forming around his groin area.
I get up, and he stumbles down. He is clutching the front of his pants, and now I can see the blood seeping out. Amazing, another worthless penis is gone. The world has enough of those, and I got rid of one more. Consider me a Good Samaritan.
“This fucking hurts!” he yells out.
I shake my head. “Yeah, no shit. I just sliced your useless dick. Are you always asking stupid questions?” I ask truthfully.
“You are seriously sick in the head!” I bring my fingers to my eyebrows, and I start rubbing them. He is losing consciousness because of the blood loss. Pity, I would have loved to hear him scream as I gut him.
“Before you ask me, everybody in this apartment building, and the next one, got a call that there may be a gas leak. They needed to evacuate immediately.” My response leaves nothing up to interpretation. But it does make him cry like a baby.
“Great, you are crying. That’s just what I needed.” I turn toward the briefcase. I pick it up and lower myself beside this asshole.
“You still want the briefcase?” I ask him while nodding to it.
“Fuck no!”
I push it toward him, all smiles. My demeanor is making him piss on the floor. Fucking great.
“If you don’t stop wetting the floor, I’m going to carve out your bladder.” He understands the weight of my words because his face is turning into an awkward sight. I open the briefcase and take out a contraption I haven’t used in a while.
This bitch is still holding on to his penis, his eyes are widening.
“What the fuck is that?” he asks me.
“I need you to open your mouth,” I order him.
“No.”
I don’t think I asked him. Did I? I crack my neck, and in one swift move, I hit him with the pear of anguish. He collapses on the floor, and now I have to amend my plans. I set the torture device beside me while I go and grab some of the ropes I saw on the way in. This not-so-good stalker loves to work in the woods on the weekends, and for whatever he does, he needs ropes.
I stalk over to him, lift him, and place him on the chair in his living room. I tie his hands behind his back as I do with his feet. I grab the handy-dandy toy again, and I hit him square across the face with it.
“Wakey, wakey, Peeping Tom,” I laugh a little. He is actually putting shame on allgoodstalkers. He wakes up and sees my gleeful smile.
“Look, man, I promise not to touch L—” I make him scream even harder by kicking him in his knees.
