Wednesday, June 11, 2014

Here's why we don't go to the police

More proxies out lurking in the desert again. Pretty sure the one who was crashing in the shack has just been loitering around.

Found a body out on the premises. It was a police man who'd been shot through the head with his own gun, and then after the fact had his heart dug out of his chest. From the look of it, no knife marks on the body, instead looks more like a wild animal dug it out with its claws and ran off with it.

When I was ten I was home alone, and I woke up and saw a tall man standing in my room. I got up and ran outside, locking the door and putting a few chairs between it and me. There was about a mile of space between me and our neighbors since I lived in a pretty rural town, but I ran the whole way and rose a shit storm waking them up and using their phone to call the police. They told me they'd send a guy over to check it out. The next morning, two police men were found hung from the rafters of the attic. Internal organs were missing from each of them, including their eyes. The deaths were not painless, nor were they fast.

Survival tip I forgot to add. They can't help you, is what I learned. There is nothing you can put between you and the monster that won't get torn to pieces. The only line of defense you have is you and your mind. Those cop's lives are on me, and this cop's life is on me. They are my fucking fault.

Don't hide behind anyone. Ever.

Haven't slept in 96 hours. I want to kill a proxy.

10 comments:

  1. I agree calling the police is a bad idea. I can't call the police here anyway... I'm kind of a fugitive. And I dunno about America, but in Europe, if the police find a weapon stash, you'll have some explaining to do.

    Take me back to the days when I used a door to defend my home. It worked splendidly.

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  2. Go sleep, regain energy.

    I'm sorry, not for what happened, but for the fact that you blame yourself for their deaths.

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  3. Few pigs are dead, who the fuck cares?

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    Replies
    1. Ah just what I missed most. Blood hungry babies on the internet trying to prove how badass they are by elbowing in with their opinion nobody wanted or asked for. Aren't you just a fucking peach.

      Delete
    2. Yes, I am a Peach, but I'm in another castle.

      Also, not blood hungry, just don't give a damn, there's a difference, although it might not seem like so to a killer such as yourself.

      You don't want my opinion? I still give it to you, cause I want to.

      Yeesh, I knew you were bitchy, but not to such an extent, just wow.

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  4. Wow, an asshole and not clever. Two in one.

    Let me give you an opinion you didn't ask for.

    I know this is just the words of a self-entitled 30 something bitch-doctor living out in the middle of the desert with blood in her fingernails and a rifle with a ten inch barrel shoved up her ass, but here's the breakdown of what happens when you find yourself in the position of dying.

    There's no time to keep up your shitty "I'm hot shit because I didn't cry when Bambi's mom bit it," persona, because at that time when you're struggling for breath, choking on your own blood and shitting yourself because your body wants to get one last dump out before closing up shop, the only thing going through your mind will be pure horror and fear because its fucking judgement day bitch. Sure you may get your last shitty comeback in and you might die with a grin on your face, but the terror will be so real you're gonna want to fucking scream for your goddamn bitch of a mother to hold you and make it all go away. That's what dying is.

    So remember when some proxy disembowels you, how much you would appreciate it if some asshole internet troll fucker didn't go "Who the fuck cares if a shitty fucking white boy with a tiny dick who read to much Nietzsche in fucking middle school just got a metal spike jammed up his small intestine, plenty more of those where they fucking came from," because spitting on the dead is how you demonstrate your sheer pettiness and inability to get laid so you have to fucking pick on the poor stiffs in the ground who don't have any better comebacks to nail you with.

    And you may think you're clever and witty, and that your gonna slam me with some red pill I never knew about before because I'm a naive fucker aren't I? That fucking Annalee she sure doesn't live in the real world. She feels bad when people get fucking killed because they were out trying to arrest her for squatting. Boy, grow up you squealing bitch and be like me. I steal literal fucking candy from babies and then drive on over the handicapped orphan shack to laugh at the kids with no legs to compensate for the fact one day a giant faceless man is going to gut me and hang me out on an electrical line to dry and that makes me piss my pants.

    There's not getting close and not getting emotionally involved because you gotta stay alive, but there's one thing I do not fucking stand for and that's pretending you're better than innocent people and being an arrogant pretentious fucking douchebag who just wants to shock people with how much he "doesn't care." Yeah, go do the world a fucking favor and shove a psychology book up your ass so you can maybe get a clue, or better yet, go jerk off the world's smallest boner and get over yourself you piece of shit.

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