1 Chapter 1

I couldn't stand still, not for a moment. The adrenaline flowing through me was enough to make anyone think they're going insane. The stained walls, the body's on the floor, and even the idea of killing made my heart pump faster. I remembered all the things they did, how they tried to tell me I was a monster, but they were the monsters, weren't they? Telling me I'd be nothing, that I'd be locked away, that I didn't deserve life, but

I'm already dead.

No matter what I did, the air was stale, filled with the smell of the smooth red liquid that humans called blood. Filling my nose, the smell only made me hate the living more. It smelt like shit, just like them. They act like they know everything, like the world belongs to them, well not anymore. Reaching to the floor, I grab my machete, lean the handle behind my back, and lick the crimson red off of the sharp blade. The taste was horrendous, but if I didn't eat, I wouldn't earn my kill. It was something I hated about being an unholy being: you don't get paid if you don't suffer for it.

The only thing that kept me going was the sheer will to live, if I didn't keep my quota, then I'm screwed. I have to remind myself, I can kill anything I want to, but if it's not on the list, it doesn't count.

* * *

I could feel the eyes on me, every step I took was followed by the feeling of unease released from the ones I hated most. They knew I was strange, but they never understood why. They don't deserve to know why we're different, just that they will all face the same fate.

I made my way back to my room in the mess of a building, mazes around every corner. The sheer fact we had to sleep in this hellhole made my life just 'so much better'.

I set my beautiful machete beside my bed leaning against my nightstand. Knowing it has the blood of my enemy on it, made it seem so magical. I walked to the bathroom to clean all the blood off my clothes. I felt so disgusted. Yet so satisfied.

I noticed some blood left on my lips, and as if on impulse, I licked it without thinking. My body shook at the taste and my heart rate quickened. Fuck. I forced my body up, feeling the urge to kill again. Reaching into my cabinet, I mentally cursed, knocking several pill bottles down on the floor in the process. As soon as I found it, I grabbed the needle and jabbed it into my leg, resisting the want to pull it out.

I pushed down on the top, making the tranquilizers mix in my veins. My breathing slowly regulated and my muscles relaxed. But the side effect. I couldn't move.

I was helpless now, anyone could break in and kill me.

I can't do anything about it.

I could barely twitch my finger, just enough so to bring blood flow back. Hips down I was paralyzed, partially because I was stupid enough to inject it in my leg.

Once I found the needle, I forced my hand to move and grab it out of my thigh to hopefully lighten the effects. I could start to move my head and my neck, looking at how far the sink is. Using the strength I had, I did my best to grab the edge of the counter and pull myself up to gain movement back in my legs.

Once I could get the sink on, I splashed as much water I could on my body and dipped my head in it, hoping I would wake up from the effects. Leaning my elbows against the edge of the sink, my stomach twisted in knots, knowing I shouldn't have tried to move yet.

Saliva filled my mouth, becoming hard to swallow, cursing at myself for causing this. The muscle paralyzation was wearing off, but nausea caused me to fold over and clench my stomach. Crawling out the bathroom I found one of the pill bottles I knocked off the shelf. It was for stomach aches. It's not nausea medicine, but it'll have to do. With all the salivating I was able to swallow the pill without going back to the bathroom. I knew taking two different medications right after another, would take its toll on my body, but at this point, I didn't care. I just wanted it to end. My feet finally came back alive and I was able to get to my bed.

Flopping down I could barely breathe. Both medications kicking in at once, my mind was blank but racing at the same time. Like a panic attack. Damnit. I knew what was happening. I grabbed my machete and cut a small slit across my wrist to distract me from my panic. The pain made my body come back alive and I gasped for air, my body finally responding.

A clash of thunder made me jump, slitting my wrist deeper on accident "SHIT" I dropped my weapon and quickly did my best to get back to the bathroom to wash the wound, but I was too exhausted. I fell to the floor with a yelp and desperately tried to keep myself from blacking out, but it was too late. I tried to close my eyes to block out the sight of blood, but I couldn't, I was too shocked to even blink. My vision was already going blurry and I couldn't focus on anything, spacing out. I covered my arm in hopes to slow the bleeding, but I was paralyzed in fear.

My whole world became a distant memory, as the pain engulfed my thoughts.

And that's when I lost it, that's when I thought my heart would stop beating, I would bleed out on the floor and that'll be it.

This is the end, isn't it

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