ahem! good comp

I wrote alil sumthin am I on the right path? or is there sumthing else I need to do?

awww did you check out the other thread... take a look at that for some examples...

Originally posted by hanako

awww did you check out the other thread... take a look at that for some examples...

ok brb

ok I think I might be ok lol

[Long ass detailed-enough story]

I haven't had music in like three weeks. No TV, no radio, my computer broken and without a soundcard.

Between the dog next door howling all day left alone for a good three days now, to the neighbors across the hall fighting all the time, to the blood curdling screams of the kid across from them.

It's like, what the hell is happening around here? Is this really the asylum? I would just drown them all out, but the only sound that can be heard in my apartment is the struggling fan on my computer.

Everyday, the same motions.... Get up, cat cries, go to work in the morning at the parts shop, come back and cat is still crying, get down and try to write that novel, so I can win one of them prizes someday. But I can't get rid of the howling dog, and the blood curdling screams, and the aggravated quacks and rising diva cries... I decide to spice it up.

I get up from my chair..... on my way to the door, I just have to reach into a drawer to pick a sharpened knife with jagged edges "here and there" and an inwardly curved blade (reminds me best of a small kukri), with green lace around the handle for a good grip. I got it as a gift with a dull blade but, I like sharp things. They are so useful. I shut my door and cross the hall, heading for the neighbor on my far left.

I know them well enough.... Hep Mike and Crazy Cathy... terminal drunkards... shameless junkies.... wastes of flesh and precious air. His shrill constipated grievances are already making me feel violent from the confines of my quarters, but as I stand by their door, knife hanging from my left hand, I feel I will really enjoy what I'm doing. Who's going to miss them?

I raise my right fist and knock a few quiet times. After a moment, I hear his footsteps heading my way to open his door to me. He looks at me, completely doped up, scrawny and unshaved with a bird's nest on his head, and through peripheral visions I can tell their apartment is as trashed as it usually is. He looks at me with this angry but absent eyeballin, and I raise my left hand quickly. his eyes widening in surprise, and shifting to pain in the same second.

I use the momentum to push him inside before he has really time to take a reflex swing, grinding the flesh best I can with the back of the knife as it pulls out of his side. He tumbles against the wall of his closet, and I hurry on him as the door swings to a close, aiming at his mouth. He lets out a muffled scream as my successful strike leaves him with a gap in his cheek that he shockingly covers, truly at a loss for words as to why I of all people who appear so monstrous to him.

At this point, I can offer a more or less calm explication of the current situation. "You're a fucking scumbag and you're going back to hell tonight."

These words finally turn on some kind of lightbulb, and he lunges at me with the desperate strength of the damned. He does tussle me off, but my decided blade finds its way into Mike's throat, and again. He just falls apart right there, his last conscious seconds sure to be painful ones.

I climb to my feet, looking over at a completely hysteric Cathy. She must be having one hell of a bad trip right now. I could never quite comprehend her words when she tries to speak to me because of her doped-out slur, but hearing her seagull cries drilling my ears like that, would make anyone want to suffocate her. The crying of the kid has stopped, but this of the dog goes on.

Unceremoniously I climb over the couch and her helpess banshee-like wailing intensifies until my hand grips around her throat, applying pressure on her windpipe. She looks at me with wide eyes and an even uglier twist of the face as she starts trying to beat on me, but I drop the knife to put both hands to the task. Soon, her lifeless body lays on the couch.

No more of them... nice... I turn to his computer. First thing I do: YOUTUBE!!

The only song I can think of right now.... Breathe by the Prodigy, dubstep remix whatever-it's-called. I pick a smoke from their bags. They are dead, might as well not waste it.... maybe I can fix myself a sandwich while I'm here? ....

I pick the knife and use the back entrance to face the other neighbor's fire-escape door. I gently pry the pins off the hinges, and I have to do is open the door through the hinges' side. I swing the door to the side, sending it down the stairwell with much noise. I can hear the dog barking but not really showing itself to me.... but I don't mind. Obviously it doesn't planning on facing me. I'll leave doors open for it; it can run free now, and just shut the hell up.

Now these new people I've never met, or even wanted to (before my sudden epiphany of complete anarchy), could be doing something horrible to their kids on a daily basis. Why the hell would they let their kids scream bloody murder all day every day? Music blasting out of mike's computer still, I go rap next door and the "father" answers.

Before he can take note of the bit of blood on my face and the fight Mike had put up in his own entrance, I reach for his collar and pull him out, almost swinging him over the ramp to show him the blood on the tip of my weapon. as I spoke a low-key tone.

"Are you, tormenting that kid?" I want to slit his throat and throw him over to break his neck in the stairwell below , but I stay my blade, slowly backing off of him to leave him a chance to look into Mike and Cathy's apartment.

"Either you will call the cops on me," I start, "or your girlfriend will; I don't give a fuck anymore. I'm already going, might as well take as many of you rotten fuckers as I can with me."

He doesn't know how to reply, but he's scared white. "Don't look at me like that!" I shout, "what the hell were you expecting? What the hell are YOU tolerating the madness for?"

"I'm.... I'm not d...doing anything-g... I promise," he blurts out, his knees starting to give over him. People are so used not being fucked with. I don't really want to kill him, I'm just happy the screaming has stopped and the music remains. I figure that at this rate I should will gone by the time the song ends, and there's one more I need to kill before the cops get here.....

My landlord.

Interesting sidenote: I originally got caged for a traffic violation. Prison made me that way.

[/story]

Last edited by 31642013 15 years ago

I woke up early , in a bit of a daze

must have been that last bong of lemon haze

All was quiet, in my kitchen

apart from the sound of the song birds bitchin

I boiled the kettle, and rolled a blunt

took my cup of coffee out the front.

The air was cold and the birds had stopped

thats when i remembered my plants needed topped

Went up to my attic , coffee in hand

I recall thinking that smell is grand

Slowly opening the door to reveal the glow

When bursts threw a massive crow

It flew over my head onto the landing

dropping 2 shits were i was standing

So i grabbed the broom and started to chase

getting it out was like an obsticle race

With all the commotion my patience was wearing thin

But my neighbour assumed there was a break in

Just as i got the bird out the door

from the police car engine i heard the roar

The car stopped, both officers got out

"are u ok sir? you look like youve been in a fight"

"i was getting a bird out, ill be allright"

"Your neighbour reported a disturbance, so were here to check"

"thanks for your concern officers but everything is well"

"Sir , could you please inform me, what is that smell?"

They took my freedom and they took my weed

Bussed me to Arizona Penetentuary at full speed

They told me i was a criminal, and i serve minimum 5 years

These corporate mother fuckers grind my gears!

WE POSTIN STORYS HERE?...IM READY