WARNING: this story has gory and descriptive murder. If you have a vivid imagination and are afraid of blood or wounds, I would not suggest reading.
I stood in front of my latest victim, a man in his early 20s, brown hair grey eyes and pale skin. He sat on his couch staring at the tv as I began to warp his mind. I "stood" in front of him, looking completely harmless. I began to sing, the words seemingly coming from my "clone".
"Are you insane like me?
Been in pain like me?
Bought a hundred dollar bottle of my champagne like me?"
I sang eerily, my voice sounded like it was littered with bits of static. My "eyes" were wide, with glints of insanity.
"Just to pour that motherfucker down the drain like me?
Do you tear yourself apart to entertain like me?"
My "hands" began tearing off pieces of my skin, ripping out pieces of flesh and leaving gaping holes in my limbs. The man stared wide eyed and frightened. I grinned, feeding off his fear.
"Do the people whisper bout you on the train like me?
Saying that you shouldn't waste your pretty face like me?"
My illusions face became changed from beautiful to distorted like a staticy tv screen.
"And all the people say...
You can't wake up,
this is not a dream
You're part of a machine,
You are not a human being."
The illusion turned slightly robotic, the parts ripped out changing from gaping bloody holes to the inner workings of a mechanical device.
"With your face all made up,
Living on a screen.
Low on self esteem so you run on gasoline"
The illusions face started to melt off like plastic, the gears falling out, gasoline and oil leaking from every crack and crevice. The man had started hyperventilating, gripping at his chest and throat as the room was sucked of any oxygen and replaced with gasoline fumes. My illusion took out a match and lit it, dropping it on the puddle of gasoline and igniting it.
The house began to burn, and yet the man didn't scream. He couldnt. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. All he could do, was stare at the girl, melting and cackling at his misfortune.
"The unfortunate shall perish
The strong shall prevail
Those who rise
Have stories to tell
Make not a sound
For no one will hear
Illusions deceive you
Make you prisoner in your own mind"
I recited as I had with many of my other victims; I walked out of the house, as it burned and withered to ashes, the mans body trapped inside. They will only find his bones.
I laughed loudly, filled with insanity and a crazed happiness and excitement. How I loved driving my victims to the brink of panic. Hahahahaaa!
"A house burned down today and almost trapped its residence inside. The owner of the house, James Pell, barely managed to get out before the roof collapsed. He is covered in third degree burns on his arms, legs, and face. He is currently situated in the local asylum, having gone insane. He is reported to have experiencing hallucinations and insanity. The most notable hallucination is a woman with brown hair slightly past her shoulders and souless white eyes. Officials are currently looking for the described woman on the off chance that she is not a hallucination. Keep your doors and windows locked and stay safe. This is Haley West, signing off."
