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 Posted: Sun Oct 14, 2012 5:05 pm
(Note: don't know whether this should go under creative, art, pictures or literature)
This thread is for original and/or unfinished pieces that you would like to share, help with and/or have others review over. Please enjoy, critique accordingly, and please do not post things unrelated.
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Posted: Sun Oct 14, 2012 5:23 pm
i'll start for people if they feel a need to read something first, on a side please note that i wasn't in the right state of mind when i wrote this,
I am hungry, forever hungry, looking for something to satisfy this hunger I continue to search, no matter where I looked I found many things, things that are sweet and sugary, things that are will make your mouth pucker and taste sour, things that as soon as you taste it you would automatically retch cause of its bitterness or burnt, things that would make you crave more like salty snacks and other different flavored things but no matter what they can’t satisfy my hunger, even with my hunger I still crave certain things but currently I have a large craving for meat, but not just any meat, meat that I have hunted for, work on, prepared myself, and most of all it must be done in by my own hands, I wish for a hunt that would send chills through my spine as I search for my food lost within the dark and all its chaos, to take it down on a personal level so that we have an intimate relation as the hunter and the prey, to prepare it for its own showcased way like an art, to become part of another and taking in a part of something and become one if not for a small moment of time, but I must never, ever, do so, since I must preserve the peace of nature and not damage cause damage to my status and surroundings, so I must repress this will and urge, so over time the urge changed as do all things, it turned into instinct and lust, to wish to torture my prey constantly pick at it until it breaks down so much that they give up or become backed up so much that they do desperate things, it turned to rage as I ended the hunt, slashing, stabbing, tearing, bashing, piercing, till they was almost nothing left but an almost unidentifiable slab of meat, crimsoned red a mess that almost no one ever wants to see, to prepare the meat and watch it burn, slice it up into pieces, sometimes I didn’t kill the prey watching it squeal in agony, writhing like a worm, when I finish, I began to devour the meat so greedily tearing into the muscles, ripping it off the bone, swallowing whole the things that I have hunted, that is how my simple natured wish became after such a long time of restrictions, unfortunately, nature like always likes to tempt people, so I am tempted constantly, the urges can appear so abruptly, when I am surround by plenty of possible prey I begin to just imagining the beginning to start all chaos and unleash my urges, creating a twisted place of my lust, spraying whole area with crimson blood, creating screams that pierce the sky, creating slabs of meat that lie still so warm and lifeless, while other pieces of meat still alive but unable to do anything, creating sight that no one should ever want to see, this is what I must hold back every time, no longer I will accept things that are sweet, sour, bitter, or any other kind of substance, I only wish for meat but I will always hold it down, to keep the piece of nature and those that surround me, I will always hold onto the chains of the monster I have become, just a mask to hide the truth, hoping that one day the monster will just go away or that it will die when I disappear
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Posted: Fri Mar 22, 2013 4:08 pm
If you don't like gore don't read, should I continue? What direction should I take it in?
“Do you still remember it?” the large shadow next to me murmured.
“Remember what?” I answered even though I knew exactly what he was talking about.
“The feel of the true feed.” He turned slightly toward me.
Oh, I remember the feel, the feel of teeth meeting through flesh, the way the blood, so warm, so sweet, pulses into your mouth, that life-giving liquid driven out of the body by the same thing that keeps it moving inside. The feeling of it running down your throat, burning a path down, sweet and hot. The frustrating way the blood runs dry long before your thirst is slaked, making you hiss in annoyance. Raising your head, looking at the prey, blood running down your chin and neck, eyes the color of deep rubies. The smell of fear and death. Oh, I remembered it well.
“I remember. Do you? Or were you too young to remember the time when we hunted freely.” My long cloak flapped about me in the stiff wind that blew from the sea.
“I never experienced the true hunts. The time when our kind ruled. In some ways it’s easier. I’m like a lion that was born in captivity; I don’t know it to miss it. Unlike you, you who are like the caged lion, who longs after what it will never have again.” He seemed surprised by my low chuckle.
“What?” he turned fully to look at me.
“You really find the truth in something so easily, when you have never really lived yet.” Something called to me from far away. I turned and started walking.
“Where are you going?” he turned and ran to catch up.
“Listen. Can’t you hear our Master’s call? We can no more resist than we can true feed. Who knows, maybe he will let us hunt whomever it is down in the bound earth.” Then I simply stepped forward into our Master’s office.
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