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There Aint No Justice 009
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*-* There Ain't No Justice *-*
*-* #09 *-*
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*-* Phoenix Modernz Inc. 908/830-8265 *-*
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-Blood Lust, Part One-
by Anonymous Bosch
I collect knives. I don't remember when I started, but I have alot of them
now. I collect swords, now, too. There's just something about edged steel
that appeals to me. The shine, the glimmer. There's something solid and
reassuring about a knife. I taught myself to throw them, and once took
fencing classes for a few months. A friend in the Marines taught me "street
style" knife fighting, so I count myself as being pretty competent.
I was just sitting around one evening, juggling a pair of 18 inch daggers
when, quite by accident, I missed one blade and cut myself. Just a scratch,
but something about that thin line of red caught my attention. I gently
raised my hands to my lips, and tasted it. The moment that the blood
touched my tongue, something basic changed inside of me.
The taste was indescribable! The taste of the blood was like the finest
liquor I had ever imagined. I had to have more. Taking my knives in hand, I
dashed downstairs and into the street. Looking about, I spotted a pair of
teenage girls walking away from me down the block. With a soundless scream
I leapt at them, stabbing the first one thru the back, and killing her
instantly. I tackled the second one, and with a single swipe, slit her
throat and buried my mouth in the gash. As I drank the young woman's blood,
I could feel the strength of her lifeforce surge into my body. Something
inside me told me that this was RIGHT, that this is what drove the cannibal
cults of old! The power, the taste! I was a god!
Of course, it being early evening, such things could and did attract
attention on a busy city street. A half dozen pedestrians were still in
shock, gazing at me and my gory feast. I looked up at them and smiled,
which must have looked pretty good, because one of the women fainted dead
away right there. Crawling over to the first girl I'd stabbed, I drew out
my knife and licked it clean. That sent the rest running. Sirens were
sounding in the distance. I took off into the night.
Later that night, despite all the sirens and searches, I was still free,
and hungry. I thought it quite humorous when I found a lone policeman
patrolling the warehouse district. I crept up behind him, and with one
motion, put one of my knives into each of his kidneys. While he was
reacting to that, I grabbed his head and gave it a three-quarters twist,
snapping his neck. I then pulled my knives out of his kidneys, and slit him
down the belly. I laid out his organs in a spiral pattern on the ground
around him, and wrote obsenities on the wall beside him in his blood while
I ate his liver.
Refreshed by the policeman's lifeforce flowing inside me, I started to make
my way back to midtown, to see how much more damage I could do. I killed
eleven people that night, and with each death, could feel the power growing
inside me. I slept the day away in the penthouse of a wealthy socialite,
whose pregnant womb had yeilded a delicate suprise.
The next evening, as I sat watching the six-o-clock news, I was amused to
see the fevered reports the police were giving on their progress towards
catching me. They were fools, I knew. I had tasted the blood, and it was I
who was strong! I, and I alone, who would prevail! They were calling me the
"Vampire Killer", but I knew better. I could see myself in the mirror, and
the sun's failing rays hadn't hurt me any when I had relieved myself from
the socialite's balcony a few minutes before. And I wasn't dead. I was
ALIVE, so very alive.
When it was dark enough, I crept out of the penthouse, and down the service
stairs to the street below. Under one arm, I bore a package containing the
pretty socialite's head, which I left in the empty hands of a statue in the
Park.
I prowled the park for several hours, evading the feverish searches of the
police, and killing the occasional homeless person I chanced upon. By
midnight, the sky was lit by a hundred police car's flashing lights, as
they surrounded the park and tried to cut off my escape. The air was full
of sirens, and the bushes full of cops, but somehow, I found a sewer grate
and with my newfound, unnatural strength, and pried it open. I crawled
throught the muck to freedom, and killed 6 people in the ghetto while the
police wasted their time in the park.
The next day I awoke early, to the sound of a scream. It seemed that the
daughter of the woman I had killed the night before had arrived home to
find her mother's entrails decorating the Christmas tree I had found
stuffed in one closet. The sight of me coming at her, naked and covered
with gore, was just a bit TOO much for her, and she slumped to the floor
before I could plunge my blade into her. As she lay there on the floor, I
thought to myself how beautiful she was, how perfect her face and breasts
were. I stepped over her body, and closed the door to the apartment.
I carried her unconscious form into the bedroom, where I took my knife and
cut her clothing off of her body. Where the blade cut her flesh as well, I
gently kissed and licked the blood away. Using the shards of her clothing,
I bound her to her bed, and began to trace delicate designs on her ebony
skin with my blade. I was cutting a rendition of the Milky Way into her
left breast when she finally awoke. The look in her eyes was pure terror.
Something in that look fed the need inside me, the way the taste of blood
had been doing. I asked her her name, to which she answered in a hoarse
whisper: "Clairice". She asked me my name, but I didn't answer her. I
continued tracing spirals into her breast, watching her eyes as I let the
blade dig into her flesh. Once, she began to cry out, but she gritted her
teeth and held back when I placed my other blade against her throat.
When her skin was a latticework of blood, I took set aside my knife and and
took a bit of her clothing and fashioned a gag. I spoke to her at last,
saying: "This is going to hurt. Alot." She fought her bonds for all she was
worth as I took one of my knives and knelt between her thighs, guiding the
glimmering ruby tip to her exposed vagina. I flicked her clitoris with the
blade gently, ever so gently, then drove my blade home between the lips of
her pussy. Her body shook with agony, and the wild thrashing of her body
threatened to throw me off of the bed for a moment. But I held my ground,
and proceeded to fuck her with my knife, until her pussy was a bloody
wreck. Pulling out the knife, I finally guided my own cock into the gory
ruin that was once this woman's pussy. It was like current racing thru my
body! The taste of the blood, the fear in her eyes, and the feeling of her
lascerated vagina on my cock were like the most potent drug I'd ever
experienced.At the moment of my climax, I took my other knife, and stabbed
her thru the heart.
As I crept thru the night, looking for new victims, I kept seeing her face
at the moment my knife took her life. She had smiled.
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