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Slash and Burn Society

A group of no name serial killers come together to form one of the deadliest factions in American history. The former leader angrily recants his history after being presumably stabbed in the back. As chilling as it sounds to see the conundrum of blood among the once stainless walls, I do not flinch. And as psychotic as the average murderer can be with his or her laughter as they shoot, stab and torture, I still do not falter. Over time I’ve learned to accept the things I cannot change and have found the courage to change the things that I could; I found that serenity.

ShannonMMetcalf · 灵异恐怖
分數不夠
24 Chs

Chapter 1: Bruce "Blank-Face" Francisco

Just to let you all know, I truly believe writing in the third person is a fantastic trait to have, but I know only of the first person perspective. Also, I wanted to make this chapter as personal as possible. I remember the day Bruce told me about the first kill he had, since his family's death anyway. To be completely honest, I felt sick myself after I heard this tale and that's saying something! I figured I'd tell it through the eyes of Bruce's victim, Liannah Harlow. Forgive me for the weird descriptions I use, I'm just basing it off of what he told me.

(Blank Face) - Date: (December 11th, 1991)

First off, my name is Liannah Horlow and I have the most beautiful dark hair. My friends tell me that I look a lot like the punk rocker, Pink? She's so pretty and I can honestly see it myself, mixed with a bit of Britney of course. (Britney Spears that is.) I have long, thick legs and the perfect light tan skin.

The abyss has become my home for as long as I can remember. I always recall those nights where I would be put to bed and there was nothing but the slight orange glow of the streetlamp to attempt to wash away my worries. My fears… The worst part of that word, is the fact that no one else can see it. Not like I can anyway; not like I can. I would lay there in bed, gazing across my room towards my door. Most nights I would think nothing of my paranoia, and play it off as my enormous imagination trying to get the better of me, but tonight was different. I'm no longer a kid anymore, in fact, I'm twenty four and still living at my parents' house.

My fear of the unknown never wavered however, yet I know nothing of what rests in that black void known as darkness. But like I said, tonight was different; yes, tonight I heard something far more chaotic than the images I have in my brain. It started slow and far away; it was a slight creak as if my parents were walking around. Though I knew this couldn't be true as to the fact that they were both gone at the casino. They did this a lot, mostly on Fridays to try and blow off some steam; I had to go investigate, naturally so. So there I was, standing already in the center of my room when the creaking goes off again. But this time it sounds so much closer than before.

In fact, I could practically hear it just a few feet beyond my doorway. My hands wouldn't stop sweating and my heart felt like it was beating deep in my throat. Every time I swallowed my saliva, it ached. Each breath I took sounded shaky and labored as if I was recovering from a nasty chest cold, but I knew I wasn't. That paranoia I spoke about was coming into full blow at this point. The door was only a foot away; my hand rested on the cold, unforgiving knob.

I could feel it; something was just behind this inch thick piece of wood. Part of me screamed to go back to bed and pray for my parents to get back home. Another part, the loud booming voice in my head told me to investigate. Just like any typical Horror cliché, I did just that. I swung the door open, and was met with complete and impenetrable dark. I could practically feel my eyes straining to adjust to the sudden change of light as I looked this way and that. A weird sensation took over in my stomach, almost like that feeling you get when plummeting on a roller coaster.

My head rang as adrenaline coursed throughout me. The stairs were just to my right, going down immediately and curving to the left before descending more. Somehow the darkness seemed even more intense than where I was at this very moment. Creak. My heart stopped; the floor had just been stepped on only inches to my left. I was in shock; I wanted to uproot myself and slam my door shut. I wanted to lay and pray in my bed, begging for whomever or whatever was in my house to go away. Alas, I was unable to remove the invisible concrete that held my feet to the floor.

Please, let this just be my brain getting the best of me. This thought continued to run through my brain like a broken record player. The creaking sounded again, this time a few feet away, down towards my parents' room. Almost instantly following this, my feet were able to shift. I felt a cold sweat drenching the back of my night shirt and my breasts were covered in it as well.

Had I known now, what I would've seen then, my ass would have long but gone from that house. Even though I'm not a runner, I'd jog until my heart felt like it was gonna explode. But I was an idiot back then. I continued to walk down the hall, past the bathroom on the left. The door was wide open, revealing a semi-lit, orange room. I shuddered a bit as a cool breeze ran through my long black hair. I could practically feel it moving as if a fan were on right behind me. My parents' bedroom door was always closed, no matter what. They stressed in having privacy and urged me to do the same.

That's why when I saw that it was ajar, my inner voice was beginning to freak out, but I continued forward. The door was only a few feet away; my feet slid across that tacked down carpet. I checked my pulse at this time, unable to believe how fast my heart was really going. Despite all this, I found myself nearly slamming into the door to my parents' room. It was this tall, light brown stained door with a glistening coat of water protection covering it. I hadn't even realized that my hand was clenching hard on my shirt, not until this moment. I slowly pushed the door open, and felt around the wall for the light switch.

Please be my imagination. Please be my imagination. I thought and I begged as I finally found the switch. It slid perfectly between my middle and ring fingers and flipped up. A blinding light met my eyes, stinging them a bit as they were forced to readjust quickly. When I finally uncovered my face, that voice that always spoke to me couldn't udder a single word.

No… It couldn't, and I can't blame it, now that I think about it. Blood… It was all over the room. Strewn all across the walls and even up on the ceiling. The light that illuminated a few seconds before had been caked in a thick red crimson. My breathing became sporadic; my hands shook and my legs felt weak as I fell to the carpeted floor. Two bodies were resting across the room from me, one was wearing a suit whilst the other wore a long white dress. "M-Mom? Dad?" I felt the stinging in my eyes, not knowing if it was sadness or the putrid stench that emanated off of their corpses.

Their dead, decapitated corpses. I got to my feet, barely able to hold in my vomit when I heard something. Creak. My heart nearly stopped as the loud floorboards mercilessly mocked me from behind. Don't turn around. If you value your life, then don't turn around. It took all my courage at that moment to not scream, and I clenched my eyes shut. I figured that if I couldn't see it, I was safe. I felt my way around the hallway, heading back towards my room. As my hands slid across the walls, I felt something warm and slimy.

I knew it was something bad, and refused to entertain whomever wanted to destroy my life. I wouldn't give them that satisfaction no matter what. So I felt the doorframe to the bathroom seconds later, and stumble over something on the floor. Instantly I'm reaching to catch myself, and hear a loud snap from my left wrist as I hit the tiled flooring of the bathroom.. "Ow." My eyes were open, which I realized and wanted to shut them, but the bathroom light flicked on. The door slammed shut and I was faced with the most horrifying imagery I had ever seen.

Gazing back at me in the reflective surface were my parents' heads, resting on the back shelf of the tub. Blood was pouring down the walls and into it. I knew I shouldn't look, but my curiosity forced me up to my feet and made me turn around. The tub was absolutely filled with blood. Before I knew it I was screaming that loud piercing silent scream you see in the Horror movies. It was so loud that my ears rang seconds following this. Then the door slammed back open; I whipped around, only to be met with a giant mammoth of a man.

He towered up to the ceiling and his nose was completely gone, as if it was never formed; the same went for his mouth. Though it looked like a long burn scar ran across, where his mouth should've been. The only thing he had for eyes were two long and deep horizontal gashes. Blood was oozing from those wounds as if they were fresh. I was paralyzed with fear, wanting to just sprint as fast as I could. The man tilted his head a bit, acting like he was taking in all that he created. His hands were covered in grime and dried blood. "Please don't kill me. I promise I w-won't tell anyone!" I tried to plea with the man, but he just laughed.

And I mean that, even though it was confusing as to where the laughing came from. As he continued laughing, I heard numerous amounts of hushed voices from every single inch of that bathroom. As if these voices were powering this man, he stood straight back up and tilted his head again. Just then a slit formed where his mouth should be, widening farther and farther, until it ran straight up each side of his face. Jagged, rotting teeth appeared as he began bleeding down his neck. I felt like a deer in the headlights as the man lunged his hands towards my face.

"Please stop!" I yelled, but the man threw me onto my back. He was reaching for something in his pocket, and then pulled out a long, rusty knife. The edges were jagged and some parts were dull. He pushed the blade closer and closer, pressing the tip of it deep into my forehead. I screamed as I felt the semi-dull blade pierce my skin, and agonizing pain erupted from it. The man pushed hard, and dragged the blade diagonally downward to the bottom left side of my face. He cut through my skin and flesh, just enough to leave a deep wound.

I wanted to die so badly, but he kept pursuing this malicious intent he had. I knew it was from all those whispering voices, but I couldn't fight him. He mimicked the last attack, but started with the top right side of my forehead. Again he pushed hard and I felt every bit of my skin cut wide open. The blade ran down to the lower right side of my face. "It hurrrttsss!" I kept crying and wailing, but the horrifying being wouldn't listen. He reached down, digging these disgusting fingers into the center part of the x he formed and began to pull with all his might. "Aaahhhhaaaaa!" I felt every single tendon ripping as he pulled harder and harder, exposing the flesh of my face.

He then grasped the other sections in the middle and began ripping those parts off as well. Every single piece of flesh attached to my skin was being torn off bit by bit. Somehow, I hadn't died yet, and the man knew this, yet he didn't give me the mercy of killing me. No, he sat there and merely observed as my body slowly bled out. The last thing I remember seeing, before everything became blank, was the man's mouth as it sealed itself back shut, as well as his eyes. He did that disturbing head tilt again and then everything went dark.

(Epilogue of Bruce's First Kill)

The abyss has become my home for as long as I can remember. Ever since the night I died, I wondered who that man was. I pondered how a person could do something like that to human beings, and never truly got my answers, at least not to his morality. Now, as I sit here, watching over this nineteen year old boy, sleeping in a place I used to sleep in, I fear for him. I saw that man today, pacing out behind this house. I heard the hushed voices whispering heinous things as he became frustrated. All I can do is sit here and pray this family gets it right and moves out of this house.

It was only now, in the afterlife, that I got a glimpse of this person's story. The story of Blank Face cannot even be truly touched by myself, not now anyways. Legend says that he's the man with no nose; he was born without a nose or nostril holes. He was a man who grew insane in this house after hearing voices whispering throughout the halls. He slaughtered his entire family by carving x's into their faces and tearing their skin clean off with his bare hands. As the legend goes, he slid a sharp blade from the top of his mouth straight up between his eyes and then dumped acid onto the open wound. It permanently sealed the wound along with his mouth shut. When the spirits deemed it necessary, they allowed him to open that nasty mouth of his.

All I can do, other than pray, is hope that one day this house gets condemned and nobody else will be harmed by Blank Face. Alas, I cannot force their hand for I am just a trapped spirit after all.

(October 10th, 2041)

By now I'm sure you all know just how gruesome our society became, and this was shortly after Bruce joined us. At the time he was in his fifties, having killed his family ten years prior to the story's date, on the anniversary of their death I might add.

Anyway, I hope my writing skills helped show the grotesqueness that came of Bruce's kills and yes, he did actually kill that nineteen year old boy. (Like I said, Bruce never wanted to do the things that he did. He hits me in an area that no other really can... I felt so bad for him, but that's for later.) I gotta go for now! Tomorrow I'll write about where I met Rachel Zale a.k.a. the Tooth Goddess. This is Shane Sorinthia, signing off!

(Later that night).

I want y'all to also know that Bruce came to me, not the other way around. I don't know how he found us, but he showed up when Rachel and I finished killing that cop. I left the apartment last and came face to well...chest to him. It was so dark out at the time, and snow had been blowing all over. I nearly had a fuckin' heart attack when he and I first met.

But the man actually saw me and for some reason he must have felt hope. That would be the only reason he pulled me into an embrace. A bone and soul crushing hug. (That was the first time we met. And to this day he was never able to explain how he found me.)