Journals of a Psychopath



The joy of revenge.

Pulling out the piece of bone from the lesbian, sniffing it beguiled. Relaxing with my arms above my head, amity washed over. Some twigs snapped, someone was invading my area. Crawling into the hideout, I deemed whoever dared to enter the hive of the higher world, would receive discipline. Witnessing the brutal sacrifices, the Trees and the Darkest-One would not tell, they were loyal and steadfast, but it was imperative to prevent the exposure, the evidence was all mine. Comprehending the instability relating to my tenure, I moaned. Scourging through the branches, the cold wind wailed, the moon shone on the river. A solid branch was in my hand, cracking it onto Brady’s skull, he attempted to rise to his feet, but he fell back. Jerking him by his thick coat and head butting Brady, he collapsed. I tied him to the Tree. Brady was an old enemy he would pay for seeking me out.

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