I'm bigoted against all slashbots! Even cockeaters who post anonymously to preserve karma! Enjoy, cockbreath!
A few years ago, while browsing around the library downtown, I had to take a piss. As I entered the john a big beautiful all-American football hero type, about twenty-five, came out of one of the booths. I stood at the urinal looking at him out of the corner of my eye as he washed his hands. He didn't once look at me. He was "straight" and married -- and in any case I was sure I wouldn't have a chance with him.
As soon as he left I darted into the booth he'd vacated, hoping there might be a lingering smell of shit and even a seat still warm from his sturdy young ass. I found not only the smell but the shit itself. He'd forgotten to flush. And what a treasure he had left behind. Three or four beautiful specimens floated in the bowl. It apparently had been a fairly dry, constipated shit, for all were fat, stiff, and ruggedly textured. The real prize was a great feast of turd -- a nine inch gastrointestinal triumph as thick as a man's wrist.
I knelt before the bowl, inhaling the rich brown fragrance and wondered if I should obey the impulse building up inside me. I'd always been a heavy rimmer and had lapped up more than one little clump of shit, but that had been just an inevitable part of eating ass and not an end in itself. Of course I'd had jerkoff fantasies of devouring great loads of it (what rimmer hasn't), but I had never done it. Now, here I was, confronted with the most beautiful five-pound turd I'd ever feasted my eyes on, a sausage fit to star in any fantasy and one I knew to have been hatched from the asshole of the world's handsomest young stud.
Why not? I plucked it from the bowl, holding it with both hands to keep it from breaking. I lifted it to my nose. It smelled like rich, ripe limburger (horrid, but thrilling), yet had the consistency of cheddar. What is cheese anyway but milk turning to shit without the benefit of a digestive tract?
I gave it a lick and found that it tasted better then it smelled. I've found since then that shit nearly almost does.
I hesitated no longer. I shoved the fucking thing as far into my mouth as I could get it and sucked on it like a big brown cock, beating my meat like a madman. I wanted to completely engulf it and bit off a large chunk, flooding my mouth with the intense, bittersweet flavor. To my delight I found that while the water in the bowl had chilled the outside of the turd, it was still warm inside. As I chewed I discovered that it was filled with hard little bits of something I soon identified as peanuts. He hadn't chewed them carefully and they'd passed through his body virtually unchanged. I ate it greedily, sending lump after peanutty lump sliding scratchily down my throat. My only regret was the donor of this feast wasn't there to wash it down with his piss.
I soon reached a terrific climax. I caught my cum in the cupped palm of my hand and drank it down. Believe me, there is no more delightful combination of flavors than the hot sweetness of cum with the rich bitterness of shit.
Afterwards I was sorry that I hadn't made it last longer. But then I realized that I still had a lot of fun in store for me. There was still a clutch of virile turds left in the bowl. I tenderly fished them out, rolled them into my handkerchief, and stashed them in my briefcase. In the week to come I found all kinds of ways to eat the shit without bolting it right down. Once eaten it's gone forever unless you want to filch it third hand out of your own asshole. Not an unreasonable recourse in moments of desperation or simple boredom.
I stored the turds in the refrigerator when I was not using them but within a week they were all gone. The last one I held in my mouth without chewing, letting it slowly dissolve. I had liquid shit trickling down my throat for nearly four hours. I must have had six orgasms in the process.
I often think of that lovely young guy dropping solid gold out of his sweet, pink asshole every day, never knowing what joy it could, and at least once did, bring to a grateful shiteater.
ATTN: Farrah Fawcett wasn't on your wall because you were a little twink.
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM. I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
ATTN: Guy -- You'll never touch one. The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
ATTN: Admin job. Admin must know how to smoke cock, large greasy beard preferred.
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM. I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM. They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse. It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM. I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM. They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM. I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM. They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM. I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM. They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM. They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM. I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM. They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse. It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM. I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty- first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
Slashdot Mirror
good point! I suppose it fell to the base of the toilet.
Anybody have technical details of this "glowing metal" concept
I'm bigoted against all slashbots! Even cockeaters who post anonymously to preserve karma! Enjoy, cockbreath!
A few years ago, while browsing around the library downtown, I
had to take a piss. As I entered the john a big beautiful
all-American football hero type, about twenty-five, came out of one
of the booths. I stood at the urinal looking at him out of the
corner of my eye as he washed his hands. He didn't once look at me.
He was "straight" and married -- and in any case I was sure I
wouldn't have a chance with him.
As soon as he left I darted into the booth he'd vacated, hoping
there might be a lingering smell of shit and even a seat still warm
from his sturdy young ass. I found not only the smell but the shit
itself. He'd forgotten to flush. And what a treasure he had left
behind. Three or four beautiful specimens floated in the bowl. It
apparently had been a fairly dry, constipated shit, for all were
fat, stiff, and ruggedly textured. The real prize was a great feast
of turd -- a nine inch gastrointestinal triumph as thick as a man's
wrist.
I knelt before the bowl, inhaling the rich brown fragrance and
wondered if I should obey the impulse building up inside me. I'd
always been a heavy rimmer and had lapped up more than one little
clump of shit, but that had been just an inevitable part of eating
ass and not an end in itself. Of course I'd had jerkoff fantasies of
devouring great loads of it (what rimmer hasn't), but I had never
done it. Now, here I was, confronted with the most beautiful
five-pound turd I'd ever feasted my eyes on, a sausage fit to star
in any fantasy and one I knew to have been hatched from the asshole
of the world's handsomest young stud.
Why not? I plucked it from the bowl, holding it with both
hands to keep it from breaking. I lifted it to my nose. It smelled
like rich, ripe limburger (horrid, but thrilling), yet had the
consistency of cheddar. What is cheese anyway but milk turning to
shit without the benefit of a digestive tract?
I gave it a lick and found that it tasted better then it
smelled. I've found since then that shit nearly almost does.
I hesitated no longer. I shoved the fucking thing as far into
my mouth as I could get it and sucked on it like a big brown cock,
beating my meat like a madman. I wanted to completely engulf it and
bit off a large chunk, flooding my mouth with the intense,
bittersweet flavor. To my delight I found that while the water in
the bowl had chilled the outside of the turd, it was still warm
inside. As I chewed I discovered that it was filled with hard
little bits of something I soon identified as peanuts. He hadn't
chewed them carefully and they'd passed through his body virtually
unchanged. I ate it greedily, sending lump after peanutty lump
sliding scratchily down my throat. My only regret was the donor of
this feast wasn't there to wash it down with his piss.
I soon reached a terrific climax. I caught my cum in the
cupped palm of my hand and drank it down. Believe me, there is no
more delightful combination of flavors than the hot sweetness of cum
with the rich bitterness of shit.
Afterwards I was sorry that I hadn't made it last longer. But
then I realized that I still had a lot of fun in store for me.
There was still a clutch of virile turds left in the bowl. I
tenderly fished them out, rolled them into my handkerchief, and
stashed them in my briefcase. In the week to come I found all kinds
of ways to eat the shit without bolting it right down. Once eaten
it's gone forever unless you want to filch it third hand out of your
own asshole. Not an unreasonable recourse in moments of desperation
or simple boredom.
I stored the turds in the refrigerator when I was not using
them but within a week they were all gone. The last one I held in
my mouth without chewing, letting it slowly dissolve. I had liquid
shit trickling down my throat for nearly four hours. I must have
had six orgasms in the process.
I often think of that lovely young guy dropping solid gold out
of his sweet, pink asshole every day, never knowing what joy it
could, and at least once did, bring to a grateful shiteater.
ATTN: Farrah Fawcett wasn't on your wall because you were a little twink.
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
you really are an idiot.
Countdown to withdrawl from filthy socialist UN shortened! I can't wait!
ATTN: Guy -- You'll never touch one.
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
chucksteak.
ATTN: Admin job. Admin must know how to smoke cock, large greasy beard preferred.
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse. It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting, designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore, or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air; they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well, entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall, and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle. With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while, Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus; tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger. Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull. Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess. Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM. I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM. They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
The urge had never come so quickly and
uniquely on impulse.
It could have been one of many factors, but this particular young man caught
my eye. It was perhaps the flashy bright orange down vest he was sporting,
designer jeans, the backwards baseball cap that read 'Lions' which he wore,
or possibly the dirty blonde color of his short hairstyle in combination
with a clean shaven jowl. Precisely at the moment I had decided to pay the
tab on my Guest Check which read '$0.98 - Coffee' did I notice him across the
crowded late night diner with several compatriots, all appearing to be in
their early twenties. I left two dollars under the empty coffee mug, and
waited outside for the group to finish up.
11:43PM.
I lit up a Dutch Master's cigarillo and waited.
12:11AM.
They emerged from the establishment. "Dude, we're going to party SO
hard tonight yeah! You can drink now buddy!" loudly remarked one of the
young man's larger acquaintances. A tall attractive young brunette female
friend chimed in with "Todd, we're taking you to Synergy! YEAH!" They all
participated in a collaborative and somewhat haphazardly group embrace. I
followed at a brisk and delicate pace as to not attract attention to myself
with my black knee-length raincoat fully buttoned. Interesting, a twenty-
first birthday celebration. I could not help but become more intrigued as
the group, centered around 'Todd' tread down several city blocks. Warm
exhalings from the group were clearly visible in the crisp winter night air;
they began piling into a mid-block building entrance. Having a one block
distance on the group ensured that I was not noticed. I followed them inside
as soon as I arrived at the entrance.
The glass door read 'Synergy - Discotheque" and I entered only to find the
entrance queue. It was completely empty. Todd and his cronies had already
made it past the bouncer at the front of the queue. The large gutted bouncer
asked for my ID, and I obviously complied and was allowed entrance to the
main area, roughly the size of a small aircraft hangar pumping loud with
hard trance beats. Legions upon legions of infantile young adults, some with
pacifiers were dancing in the area, most probably gained underage entry with
a fake ID. Todd's orange vest still clearly visible. I proceeded to the front
left corner of the club where there were tables and ordered a gin and
tonic, continuing to stare out onto the dance area. Perhaps two, maybe two
and one half hours had elapsed when my opportunity was presented to me on a
silver platter. It was clear that Todd was on a line of action to the left
rear corner bathrooms, soaking in sweat.
2:23AM. Inception.
With much haste and finesse, I made my way to the rear of the club as well,
entering the restroom moments prior to Todd. I deceptively pretended to
straighten my appearance in the mirror, as three young men left the
bathroom, only Todd and I remained. Hard trance beats were muffled but still
quite loud. With much guile, I was able to lock the bolt on the restroom
door, entrapping my newest curiosity without his knowledge. Standing at the
urinal, I exerted a strike of quick and brute force to Todd's temple. Todd
fell unconsciously, still pissing all over his jeans. I dragged his limp body
about twenty meters to the corner of the standard handicapped toilet stall,
and propped him up in that corner.
2:24AM. Intended consequences.
Peaceful. Unconscious. Todd reeks of Brut and Old Spice. I stared at him for
some moments with serenity. I had several options at this point. I could
have splashed a baseball cap full of chilled toilet water on his face to
revive him. I decided that the risk was not acceptable, as my initial assault
had only left his temple bleeding slightly. I confirmed with myself the
usual method. I unsheathed the concealed skinning knife from my left ankle.
With quick and exacting two flicks of my upper arm, Todd's larynx, just
below the Adam's Apple was cleanly severed. Todd cast a small oval shape of
skin and cartilage from the wound with an abrupt exhale. Todd gazed back in
utter terror with fully dilated green eyes. Intentionally, the jugular was
left intact.
I of course preempted Todd's sudden shocking awakening by plunging the
hooked razor end of the skinning knife into his left shoulder, and torqued
the knife in a counter-clockwise manner by 45 degrees and retracted the
blade from his upper pectoral. Several inches of tendon became lodged in the
razor hook after I brutally tugged the twisted knife from him. All the while,
Todd attempted to scream in agony, only succeeding in expelling several
blood clots from his decimated voice box. Aside from that, Todd had no major
blood loss and continued to force air and blood mist out of the gash in his
neck, creating pleasant, barely audible wet whistling noises.
Stepping forcefully on Todd's new shoulder wound, it was at this time that I
opted to kick Todd several times with my other boot into his solar plexus;
tenderizing the meat so to speak. After putting a latex glove on my left
hand, I prodded the neck wound mercilessly with my index and middle finger.
Todd continued to gasp through the neck wound, but was apparently starting
to have trouble with a small amount of blood clotting at the hole.
2:25AM. Finish the job.
Todd was succumbing to nervous shock. This was the integral and necessary
time to finish off my thesis. I submerged the blade deep into his abdominal
diaphragm with the blade along his body's line of symmetry with several
sawing motions as Todd writhed in utter agony, helpless with his shoulder
wound still pinned under my left foot. Sawing probably a good four inches
under the second stab wound, I jerked and twisted the blade in various
speeds and degrees of forcefulness as Todd's eyes rolled back into his skull.
Whether or not my blade's final quick lunge into the heart was the final end
to his life, it had not phased his crumpled person. Todd is now dead.
2:25:30AM. The cleanup and departure.
Stepping on the shoulder wound had left my boot sole a bloody mess.
Fortunately, this had prevented any significant accumulation of bleeding on
the floor from Todd. I ruthlessly cleaned the sole with the parts of Todd's
orange goose down vest which were still clean. I also wiped the blade clean
on the vest. Because of the liberal size of the handicapped stall, the
atrocity was not noticeable with the stall door closed. So, I propped his
dead body into a sitting position on the toilet, his feet and legs virtually
clean with the exception of some piss stains. I locked the stall from the
inside and crawled under the stall door's gap. I pocketed the latex glove
after rinsing it clean with warm water. Checking the bathroom in triplicate
for potential incriminating evidence yielded nothing else. I unlocked the
bathroom door and fled.
2:27AM. Gin and tonic.
There was some gin and tonic left in my glass. I finished it and left. The
barmaid yelled "LAST CALL!"
fucking fags!