A crimson lust

The bullet shell hit the ground very suddenly with a bounce; it was followed by two, and then three more. As each shot passed through her chest at high velocity the world seemed to slow down for just a brief moment, as the bullet dug deeper. The blood sprayed forth from her chest and covered her surroundings with a deep crimson red, she slowly loses the life she once had in her eyes, and all those dreams she once strived to achieve faded away into darkness. Her body becomes limp as her muscles cease signalling to the brain, she starts to fall backwards, and blood spurted forth from her mouth and landed just inches away from the culprit, a tall man in an all-black two piece suit smiling at the pathetic display his victim made.

He stood there, impressed with his work, admiring the crimson art display that was made before him, he pointed the gun towards the woman’s neck “One more for good luck,” he uttered to himself, the bullet zipped through her neck which left a path for the horrific geyser of blood that came forth from the wound. The blood masked the man’s face with a deep crimson red the glistened in the dimly lit construction site; he wiped the blood off slowly with every moment exciting him and fuelling his passion of this newly acquired hobby. He smirked and gave a slight but graceful bow, with his left hand placed firmly upon his chest he held the bow for a brief moment and closed his eyes to help imbed this magnificent display perfectly into his mind for him enjoy with every blink.

He slowly raises again and opens his eyes back to the event that unfolded, he looks to his left and walks off, but not just feet away from the sight does his stomach begin to disagree to his twisted mind at the horrendous display in which he vomits out his insides, with his stomach acids burning the insides off his inner mouth. He covers his mouth with his right hand while trying to gasp for some much needed air, as his lungs tighten he tries to stumble forward and get away from the scene as he is sure it won’t take long for the police to appear. His heart begins to race, his mind wonders and his body starts to carry a burden as if he is carrying the weight of the life he just ended.

The weight is heavy; it strikes pain in his back as he moves away slowly. His legs feel as if they have chains around them pulling him back to the corpse of his now deceased lover, a flame of passion now darker by his greed for the wealth she possessed and the desires of his ill mind. He starts rushing down the street, which grows darker with each breath. The ground begins to move closer until sudden fade to white. His slow raise to a stern face looking down at him, as his eyes adjust the face begins to make shape, a middle aged male with a scar across his forehead. He notices the sudden life on the bed, he become tense and his breathing becomes heavy.

The guard grumbles to himself and keeps his focused on every move the man makes, ready to defend himself if need be. He seems confused as to how he got to this place and if what he did ever happened. But with every blink, the crimson display once again appears with all too much detail for it to be a figment of his imagination. He is disgusted in himself but also has a mixture of pride for the deed he has done. As he becomes more alert the memory of the night becomes clearer. He smiles and slowly loses that remorse he felt for his now deceased lover, as she gave him that beautiful red art work that is now burned within his being in which he will cherish for the rest of his life.

He looks up towards the guard and smiles and politely asks him to end his life for he has achieved peaceful state of being and would like to remain with happiness for eternity. The man places his hand upon his chest and takes a deep breath. With this random request the guard is stunned at this uneasy resolve, a truly twisted man this is, but he will not come through with this deed. Although he deserves that fate he will not receive such a quick and painless ending.