novel: death’s corner. ™
                                                 written: ris
                                          publication: motel21.
                                        it begins: 16 june 2008.
                                         it ends: to be decided.
          to sum it up: death. blood. more death. more blood. & more death. this is composed from my infatuation with subjects involved with mass crimes and murder. that statement basically describes itself, so i don’t need to divulge any further. Just read and enjoy. I’m sure you’ll like it. silent readers ; it's really dumb to read every add and then say nothing about it. there must be something you liked since you came back. be aware that i am watching you.
          lastly: Please comment! I need to know how I am doing because I don’t want to write just to write. I need a reason, no scratch that I like to write for a reason. No bumps until you leave a coherent comment. You don’t comment, you get no add. It’s as simple as that. Ok, so now that I got that out the way, the story can begin.

          All events portrayed herein are fictitious. Any similarities to real events are purely coincidental.



                                        GET HURT -- 001. | 004. | 005.

This message has been edited. Last edited by: HARD liquor. M21,

this the one i wanted to be finished !
- ups

_{had to drag it back through the trenches, but i'm gonna finish it.}

good cause i wanna read.

_{finally got the spacing and ish right. might post the first add later on.}

_{bringing this back up a few notches.}

ups

urp ! sounds interesting .

you better add hoe .

_{* bookmarking * Gotta read this !
Keep it up M21 !}

upz

_{upperz ma .
add asap .}

_{adding now.}

                    


     It was a misty, dark night at half past eleven. The moonlight pierced the darkness with its rays. The shadowy moon hid itself behind the trees, on the corner of Fifteenth and Jacob, the corner where drugs and violence reigned, the corner where death sat on its throne.

     The night was cold and peculiar. The corner was desolate. Stores were closed and people were locked in their homes. Fear sat by their sides. They didn't dare walk on this lifeless ground. The corner was known for its many deaths, killings, and drug busts. There was an invisible warning sign that read: Do Not Enter.

     It is on this corner that I wait, perched on the rooftop of CVS. Legs slung over the edge, high as the trees. My tattered black coat resembled a dog's chew toy; holes, shreds of material all over, some pieces still intact. Other than the coat, I wore a plain black tee and black denim jeans. On my feet were my black Chuck Taylor's with red shoelaces.

     I clutched a machete in my right hand, while I held a sinister smile on my face. Here I have waited, hours on end. For a sound, a squeak even. Some indication of a life nearby. There was always one unsuspecting victim ripe for the picking and I would be happy to oblige them. Sooner than I expected, a laugh echoed beneath me. I closed my eyes and focused my energy on the sound. When I opened my brown eyes, my gaze centered on two women.

     The first was about 5’8. Caramel brown skin, black hair, angelic face. She wore a long black pea coat fastened up to her neck, but I could still see her. Hear her heels clicking on the road as she walked. Beside her was another woman, this one blonde. Same height, but she looked devious; small eyes that seemed to sparkle with deception. Her body adorned a pink blazer, knee-length jean skirt and black boots.

     I licked my lips, letting my tongue run over my teeth as well. Gripping the machete more firmly, I rose and walked to the rooftop exit. This was going to be fun. In seconds, I was on the road, inches behind them. They never even turned around. Probably too consumed in getting to some party that they were late for. It didn't matter though because they wouldn't make it there.

     Walking quietly behind them as if I was floating on air, I grabbed the blonde's shoulder. She jerked and turned around. Her friend did as well. Her bright eyes widened in surprise. Before she could utter a word, I wrenched the machete into her abdomen. Her friend screamed and stood there in shock, glued to the spot. Blondie moved her arms all around trying to grab my arm. I removed the machete and then did the same to her arm, tearing through it like a twig.

     Her eyes flickered as she slumped to the ground, her jacket now soaked with blood; gurgling and choking on her own blood. A dark pool surrounded her head. Focusing my attention back on the second one, I caught a glimpse of her frightened expression before she turned and ran. Smiling, I stood and watched her. When she got a little ways up the road, I followed her. I was up on her quickly and turned her around. She screamed and I punched her. Her head shot to the left and blood leaked out.

     Raising my machete again, now stained with the blonde's blood, I brought it to her neck. Pressing it against her neck, I pierced the skin there. She started clawing at me, and then suddenly stopped as her head hit the floor. Severed from her body. I watched her body hit the floor and bent down to pick up the flyer that she dropped. “Tanya's Party” 334 Bonhill Road. Shoving it into my pocket, I walked the short distance to my bastard father`s house and went inside; it took me a while to find him here in Maine, but at least I can crash here without anyone knowing. After cleaning and putting the machete in a safe place, I made my way to Tanya`s house. Perhaps now that my work is done, I can unwind.

_{did you revise this story or something? that you had to post it over?}