transgressions of "man"

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
dont read this

Submitted: May 01, 2019

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 01, 2019



“Do you think God hides in heaven because he too is afraid of what he created?”- Steve Buscemi.


Brad was a burn fast and bright kind of guy. He lived his life peddle to the metal, parties all throughout high school and college. Years of drug and alcohol abuse slowly deteriorated his once strong and dexterous body. But all the while that happened the women still found him irresistible, or maybe it was just the alcohol? He didn't really care, as long as he could get into the poor girl’s pants. And that he did, to a lot of girls. 6 bright-eyed and innocent women went to his house party over the years, each one came out the same, battered and stripped of their innocence.


This human specimen managed to foster 10 children by age 25, and around that time karma finally caught up with him. All of his “baby momma’s” left at the same time, almost like they all conspired together to fuck him over much as he did to them. Leaving him alone with all the children he had no choice but to try and take care of them. Screaming, whining, babbling, snot-nosed children. All of this was most likely penance for his past actions. One might look at this and think maybe that at this point he would try and change the error of his ways, but Brad is not like most people, he is human trash.


Being the lazy man he was Brad got the only job his incompetent and uneducated self could get. Pleasuring people, in the most sin way possible. Each day men would go to the whore house and find him in the men's restroom, tied up so that his ass was up in the air. They could freely use him how they saw fit. Disgusting but paying work it was. But it barely paid the bills and the cost of feeding his many children.


Now that you are caught up to what is currently happening we can go to Brad and see how he is handling all of this.


Back in the little flat, Brad had gotten he was in a fit of rage. “FSUFUUUUUUUCK!” He yelled, his words being garbled and morphed by his own rage. So many emotions from things he had seen as attacked on himself as if he was the victim in this situation like someone was attacking him, doing this to him. Unfairness, cheated, JOKED. Some of the things flowing in his mind throughout this blind rage of his.


Throwing whatever he could get his hands on to subside his rage, bottles, glasses. This did nothing but make him even madder. The babies began crying at the loud noises of all the thuds and cracking glasses. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP ALL OF YOU!” He spat as he screamed at the children, it was as if he truly thought they understood his words coming out of his mouth. . . to keep screaming was a defiance of his power, his authority over them, which was all he had in this world anymore. “FINE!” He screamed with the red face of his, his eyes taunted red with rage so close to overflowing.


Grabbing one of the more tanned babies from their baby bouncer by the face he clamped down on its face with his superior strength. Its helplessness filling him with happiness knowing he was stronger than this small being filled his devoid soul of rage with some sense of happiness, might it be wicked happiness, but happiness all the same.

Slowly picking it up he felt it squirm a bit kicking its feet and arms shakily and energetic like in confusion and fear. “You dare to keep crying?” He said with a low quiet voice. It was true the baby was still crying, but its voice and breathing were muffled by his large hand which he had clamped over the babies face.


His rage had soothed, which made what he did next that much more confusing and morbid. With the fling of his arm, he sent the baby flying at a wall and upon impact, it exploded like a can of red paint. Splattering the wall with the red liquid and the bits of pink flesh, its body stuck to the wall and slowly slid down it, leaving a trail of blood on the wall until gravity finally took ahold and made the baby fall to the ground with a muffled thud.


Brad thought this to be a victory, not against the baby, maybe to him but this was something deeper inside him with his own demons. A victory for the demons, his inner workings of sin and evil slowly taking over in his most vulnerable moment. Brad let out a victorious yell that echoed through the room, making the other babies cry even more. Not understanding what was happening, except the loud noises, that they were hungry, or that their diapers were full, they could not comprehend the immense pain they all would soon be feeling at the hands of this monster.


Rushing over to the limp and decapitated corpse of the baby Brad picked it up. Reeling his arm back he slammed it right into the wall where the baby had initially impacted. His fist went right into the poor baby's rib cage cracking the bones with ease and tearing apart its lungs. This didn't matter, of course, it had died the moment it hit the wall the first time, of all the babies this one had the easiest and least painful death.


The smell of blood filled Brad’s nose, the smell intoxicating him. He almost had an urge to bite into the dead baby, just to satisfy his natural urges. But he managed to resist this. Letting go of the mush that used to be the baby it fell to the ground, a bit of it sticking to his hand like ground beef.


Down to 9 children now Brad’s mind was filled with ideas of what he could do, but what to what, with what purpose?! Looking around frantically trying to comprehend all these new thoughts that seemed to satisfy his rage and fury. Something caught his eyes, his completely bare walls had but one thing on them, left by the last tenant it was a small wooden cross with Jesus nailed to it. With this Brad’s mind raced thinking about this, religion had never been a huge part of his life, but one thing he knew was that these thoughts had come from somewhere. . . could it be Satan himself? Was Satan commanding him to do these things? These acts while horrendous brought him such joy, satisfying urges he didn't even know he had.


Yes. . . Yes, it all made sense to him now, Satan was telling him that he must become his minion and make more sacrifices for him, for him to ever be truly happy as he was a moment ago for a brief moment.


Rushing over to the wall Brad slammed his fist into the wall where the cross was, splitting it in half much like you would with a pencil. Sending it to the floor. “Yes my master, I will sacrifice my children for you” Brad was truly losing whatever sense of good and bad, his mind being flooded and emptied with these thoughts much like a man breathing, rising and lowering, changing and altering him each time until he would slowly become an entirely different man, for better or worse.


Brad had calmed himself down walking over to the mush baby on the floor he scooped it up and walked to the center of the room. Kicking the coffee table over and pushing it to the side of the room he then moved the carpet aside to expose the wooden floor. Taking the mush of the baby he made it into a pile in the middle, dipping his hands into it and taking chunk fulls, if there was anything left that resembled a human part he would simply smash it until it was smooshed like the other parts.


Starting with a large circle, Brad used the blood and mushy flesh paste that he had accumulated and painted out the circle. Then once that was done he drew out sloppy and misaligned lines that formed a pentagram. Brad was only going off of what stupid stereotypical ideas he had seen on tv or in movies, this being one of them.


With whatever mush baby remained he threw over to a corner in the room. Getting up he went over to grab one of the babies, which one? He didn't care as long as it was a baby and alive, the thrill of ending and controlling a human life was a thrill to him at its very core. Grabbing one of the babies he walked back to the pentagram sacrificial circle he had made. All the while his clothes were getting soaked and covered in blood and flesh, not that he cared, the smell gave him strength.


Sprinting to the kitchen with such joy Brad searched for a knife suitable for what he wanted to do. The best he would find was a dull butter knife, he was disappointed but knew that with enough force he could make anything work.


Walking back to the room his ears were filled with the noises of the screaming babies, soon one by one he would silence them all, all in the name of his one and only lord Satan.


Approaching the baby surrounded by his half brother's matter and blood he knelt down. “You dumb sack of potatoes” This was the first time he had spoke in some time since his psychotic breakdown. Leaning down to the screaming baby he put the knife to its throat, the cold sharp blade cutting into the babies soft supple flesh lightly, this only made it screams and cries louder and filled with pain. “You best shut your mouth, or I will end you” He said with such joy in his voice, knowing the baby could not reply, or comprehend what he had just said to it.


The baby continued to cry and shake a little bit. “No?” Brad smiled. “Ok then, I gave you your choice” Sitting up straight he brought the blade up looking down at the crying baby in its weak pathetic eyes. And brought the blade down, slamming it into its chest piercing its lungs. The baby had no idea what had just happened, but it's crying had stopped and was replaced with the sound of sharp gasps of air, as it did this blood filled its lungs, and blood was spurted out by the escaping air from its lungs.

“What's that? You want more?” Yanking the knife out he slammed it right back down into its chest. More blood spurting out and the blood filling its lungs. Tears filled the babies eyes as it desperately tried to breathe, this only sped up its now inevitable death. Finally, with one last blow to the chest, the baby stopped moving. Ceasing all movement Brad was satisfied again with his bloodlust. Blood slowly pooling in its mouth and overflowing a bit.


Over the next two hours, Brad brutally murdered his 8 remaining babies until none where left.


Lying in a chair the room no longer looked the same, the walls were covered in blood and unidentifiable parts of the babies bodies. On the floor laid chunks of flesh even an entire baby…. Just lacking any skin or hair, its muscles exposed and all skin removed from it, even its eyeballs, that baby definitely had a painful death. Another one Brad had cut apart limb by limb, starting at the feet he slowly made his way up. The baby died about the time he reached its hips but he didn't stop, he went all the way until it was in pieces. And his favorite one was the baby he had went about tearing all the flesh off of its bones, his reasoning being he wanted a skeleton for decoration.


All of these sacrifices for his new lord had not been noticed yet. Brad waited patiently in his chair for some sort of sign, prickling his fingers along with the chair with quite thumps.


When nothing came after long waiting Brad grew impatient and started yelling. “HELLO? LORD? MASTER AND GUIDE?” He almost sounded sarcastic, did he even believe that Satan had told him to do this or was this all an excuse to himself to do what he wanted to do with no guilt? Then why did he feel a bit guilty?


Brad noticed something, from the ceiling the light seemed to be getting brighter and brighter, eventually, he had to block his eyes so he wasn't to go blind. Running over to the light switch he flicked it, but it didn't turn off, off and on, off and on, it had no effect. Soon the light was so much that it burned through his hands covering his eyes. . . and then just like that it ended, the light subsided.


Uncovering his eyes Brad was no longer in his house he was in a… castle? It was a large stone castle with a throne behind him, above it were stone angel wings. Where was he?


Looking around he noticed a lot of paintings on the walls, mostly religious looking ones. And then one thing struck him as odd, a large “Welcome back” …. “God” banner. “Where am I?!” He said with a deeper voice, looking down he noticed he was in a white robe… and had a large grey beard. Walking around frantically he tried to find an exit but came across something much worse.


In a large room, there were people on a couch looking at a tv, now there was nothing odd about this except that on the screen was his living room, with all the dead bodies. One of the people turned around and saw him. “Ah, I uh… welcome home god” He said with a shaky voice, Brad’s mind swirled trying to comprehend all of this, what was happening?! And nothing, it ended


© Copyright 2020 Gunnec Grenar. All rights reserved.

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