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Insanity

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Warning: Does include the following: Blood, Gore, Dismemberment, Cursing, Etc. Etc.


“It’s actually quite the opposite; the ramblings of a madman are quite intriguing. Even more so the thought process behind it all, I mean to know WHY the person has gone into a downward spiral into insanity. Most... uh... ’specialists’ will give you some bullshit answer about a childhood incident where lets see... Childhood friend dying, a death in the family, etc. etc.

It’s awfully boring if you ask me. I mean to think a man who enjoys the taste of blood or writes biblical verses in his skin with a rusty knife do what they do because their great aunt died? I do believe a couple cases are true, a mental scar was imbedded into their brains as a small child but it grew from a small cut into a 3inch laceration that eventually pushed them to take the lives of loved ones and take their otherwise normal life away from themselves. But I will tell you the truth, nothing more, nothing less. It’s the simplicity or loneliness. Have you ever been alone, purely alone, no connection to the outside world?

“Well, I...” My therapist stuttered.

“No, you haven’t. Let me tell you. It’s horrifying; it drives a man to the brink of humanity. So far into the depths of insanity that even a connection with another person won’t bring them back. As I said the simplicity can cut away the sanity. That’s what happened to me. It drove me to gut a stranger, to tie a man to a metal table and hack away, smiling at every blood splatter and every scream that echoed through my head.

A daily routine repeated every month, over and over. I couldn’t take it anymore. Instead of doing what most grown men do, simply changing a small thing to keep them going through their miserable lives, I decided a change of lifestyle would suffice. I killed my wife, cutting her head off with an old axe, disposed of her rotting carcass by tossing it in the pond in our back yard. I went out and illegally bought piranhas to throw into the pond. I’ll tell you, it’s quite a sight. Just to watch 5 piranhas reduce a headless corpse into bones in a matter of seconds. “

My therapist, a small awkward young man, at this point reached for the phone on a nearby table. I brought out a small, 3inch carving knife and impaled his hand into the table.

“Hey! It’s rude to interrupt a story.”

Carving knife copy

His mouth hung loosely, his eyes wide in sheer terror. He tried to scream, but no sound came out. I shook my finger, “I can’t have you interrupting my story over and over!” I took my knife out of the table, and brought out a small, smooth stone. I sharpened the blade against it very quickly and stood up. I walked over behind the man and grabbed his head, forcing it backwards.

His eyes looked up at me in pain, agony, and fear. He was frozen in sheer terror, and shook violently. I gave him a reassuring smile, and proceeded to pull his tongue out of his mouth. He began to struggle, so I put my knife to the edge of his throat. “No moving or I may just slit your throat” He ceased struggling but shook ever so slightly.

I pulled his tongue up and brought my knife into his mouth. I put it to the very back of his tongue, and began to saw back and forth. He screamed but I did my best to muffle the sound. At the end I held up his bleeding tongue in triumph. “There we go, now you can’t interrupt me!” Tears streamed down his face and he sobbed, making awkward noises. I brought his other hand back over to the table and impaled it. I tossed the tongue over my shoulder and sat back down.

“Where was I? Great now I forgot! Oh well…The point I was trying to make was people have insanity all wrong. The men simply change to better fit their own needs; it’s either insanity or death. Which would you choose?”

He started sobbing more, and blood poured from his mouth.

“I agree, thank you." I looked at my watch and sighed. "I do apologize but I have to leave. I thought we were getting somewhere too. Oh well, I suppose I can reschedule for next week?”

I walked back over to him, took my knife back, and shoved it into the right side of his stomach; slowly bring it over to the left. He cried out, well I suppose you could call it that. Blood poured onto his leather chair and then onto the floor, forming a pool of blood.

“I do thank you, I think I’ve made tremendous progress.”

I cleaned myself up in the bathroom and walked out, as my therapist bled out onto the floor.

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