Gruesome Fixations

Bram

She stumbled to the ground, gasping for air. "W-why are you doing this to us?" was all she managed to choke out, searing pain to her ribs stopping her. Bertha swiveled her head in the direction of Johnathan, her son. The boy was laying unconscious just outside the door. Her heart ached, she used all of her strength to crawl towards her baby boy. Her attacker stopped her by pressing his foot to her back. Bram could do nothing but chuckle. It all seemed so pathetic to him. Grabbing Bertha by her hair Bram took a long whiff of it, sending shivers down poor Bertha's spine.  When the senstaion subsided she felt a blade press against her neck.

Unamused by her whimpers, Bram just yawned, withdrew his pistol and aimed. He then scooped up the child and placed him onto the trunk of his Chevy. Satisfied the brat wouldn't move, Bram strode over to where Harold, the boy's father, was strung up to an oak tree. "DON'T TOUCH MY BOY" Harold snarled, blood trickling from his temple. Without a word Bram went over to Harold and carved open his protruding gut, hot, sticky, blood poured from the wound, eliciting gasps. Bram rummaged around in the man's still warm torso, searching for his prize. Bram peered at the still body of the boy and placed him in the trunk of his car while retrieving a large tupperware, there he would store the heart.

Bram walked over to Harold and cut the limp body down. He lowered him so he was propped against the tree in a seated position. Satisfied with his work, the carving of the burly man's large chest commenced. Bram was leaving his signature.

"D-Dad....Daddy?!" Bram turned toward the trunk, "DADDY HELP" with a disappointed sigh Bram resheathed his knife and opened the trunk, he lifted the child by his shaggy blonde hair. Tears streamed down Johnathan's face as he took in the scene behind them, his mother's arm sticking out of the door way, his father's bloody crumpled body, then the child's eyes fell onto the man in front of him, covered in blood and sweat. 

The next morning the local newspapers read: "The Braufin family found dead in Knick's Wood. Johnny Baufin: Head trauma, Bertha Baufin: Bullet to the brain, Harold Baufin: Evisceration"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tick tick tick tick

Bram was sitting in his kitchen watching the way the steam rolled off the top of his coffee cup, it had been a week and a half since his last gut wrenching outburst. He wanted more. He couldn't stop thinking about the feeling he got when he looked into their eyes, the thrill was enchanting and somewhat arousing. His mind kept replaying the image of his last victim, the way his blood smelt and how his body had kept that warmth.

The memory of his hunt lingered he could almost smell the forbidden aphrodisiac, the blood pouring from his kill was almost too much. He could feel his muscles go rigged. Shaking his head he tried to change his train of thought. He couldn't be acting on these feelings. They were too much for even him.

The trip into town was always a quick one. Maybe that should terrify him. Seeing as how the distance between Bram and the town was barely any distance at all. His proximity to all those murders could easily be link him. Ignorance was bliss he supposed. The simple drive to town was different this time, there was a buzz among the inhabitants. Someone had found the Braufin's remains out on the 36 a little ways into the woods. For some reason this didn't phase Bram. Maybe he was amused by the thought that he could get caught- maybe that was the entire thrill of it all.

Shopping list in hand, Bram strode into the local grocer. He needed something he could pair with his latest reward.