No Emotion.

No Emotion.

A Story by A Social Corpse
"

Can you imagine it?

"

It is as methodical as it is disturbing, what I do. I am a demon, but I am an angel. The smell or sight does not bother me. It seems so natural to me, like art. I have to take my time with each piece though, making sure everything is perfect. I do not know why I do this; it just seems so… natural. As if it is my purpose, my destiny you might say. Some people may not understand that, they may ask how someone’s destiny can be so wrong. Well, it isn’t wrong to me, on the contrary, it is the right thing for me to do. Anything but this would be wrong to me. Don’t you see, I am not like you in any way, shape, or form. I am different. Some call me a devil incarnate, others see me as some hero, but I am neither. I am I. The hate that fills the newspapers about me, the infamous serial killer, it shames me and it makes me sad. Sad because people just don’t understand. I do not think I am normal by any means and I know what I do is wrong in everyone else’s eyes, but I cannot and will not stop being who I am. The touch of a scalpel in my hand is as calming as a violin piece. I can think of nothing that would be able to bring me to a point of self-enlightenment such as this. I feel complete and without this, I feel nothing. Am I sorry for what I do? Maybe, but at this point I am not sure what sorry feels like. When I try to feel any remorse for what I am doing, all I get is emptiness. Maybe that’s my soul, dying off little by little, a piece going with each person. I am sure they haunt me; ever since I started, I have felt like someone was watching me all the time. It isn’t the police and even if it was, I do not care. Being caught is not something I concern myself with, as it will happen when it should. I will plead guilty to all of it and tell them I am not crazy. I will tell them that my purpose for being here was what I was doing, that nothing else could replace it. My only fear is hell. I know I am going there; there is no refuting that. I expect no mercy to be shown to me and I fear that all these people I have touched will be there waiting for my arrival. I am sure the devil laughs at me every day and that god has turned his eyes away from me. I have been a soul lost in this world that feels like a constant dream for too long now. I am not happy, nor do I think I ever will be. I am in a place where emotion eludes me.

© 2013 A Social Corpse


Author's Note

A Social Corpse
Leave your reviews or not, I don't really care anymore.

My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

237 Views
Added on January 18, 2013
Last Updated on January 18, 2013
Tags: life, death, god, devil, satan, spiritual, ending, serial killer, murder, sadness, apathy, happy, fear, limbo, emotion, lack

Author

A Social Corpse
A Social Corpse

Fort Polk, LA



About
I have been writing for about 12 years now. I have nothing published as I feel that my works are not up to par. So, to quench my thirst for an audience I am bringing them here in hopes of some adequat.. more..

Writing
Shell Shell

A Story by A Social Corpse