Beauty of revenge

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Griffin Dowley's had enough. He's stuck in a shitty job not to to mention that he's been pushed around by his boss and teased harshly by his co workers. Until one day, he realizes that revenge is best served cold-with murder on the side.

Submitted: December 13, 2011

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Submitted: December 13, 2011

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I groaned and covered my ears to block out the screaming and noise that was out in the building. The children were really pissing me off. All they do is whine.
Seriously, their parents needed to shut their little brats up! I could hear them all the way in the back from where I was drying plates and cups.
"Service with a smile, my ass." I muttered, putting yet another plate on the shelf. My boss had told me that I was supposed to greet every person with a smile, regardless of how I was feeling at the moment on that day.
Like I cared. All I cared about was getting out of here and rewarding myself with a Reese's' Peanut Butter cup. They always calmed me down during one of my steamed moments.
Which I had every fucking day here in this shithole. I hated it, the people, the noise, especially my co workers who were complete assholes to me.
I'm not going to describe them to you, for I do not care about their appearances.
They were complete dicks.
They once tied me up and stuffed an apple in my mouth." Hey, Griffin looks like one of those pigs you get on one of them fancy platters!" Dick had laughed. He was your stereotypical immature moron who thought fart jokes and sex jokes were hilarious. He wasn't quite out of that retarded stage yet, and sadly he's never matured more.
Bob was was no better. He would constantly judge me on my looks, him being one of those sophisticated bastards that based you off clearly on appearance. Not that there was anything wrong with me. I considered myself to be handsome. I was skinny, about 5'8, and had spikey brown hair as well as bright piercing light blue eyes and a skinny build. And I also had a bit of a five o' clock shadow. I wasn't exactly smooth with the ladies, in fact I was a bit awkward, and Dick and Bob used that against me.
Still hadn't found the right woman yet...twenty eight years old and still a virgin. Now isn't that pathetic?
"Griffin!" bellowed my boss's voice from the front." Get your ass out here and clean those tables!" Yeah, that was my boss, Mr Harolds. He was a fat fuck who was pissed all the time and couldn't keep his grubby hands off junk food.
Groaning, I walked to the front where the noise penetrated my ears. Wincing from the loud noise, I glanced around at all the people-disgusted by their mere presence. They were like a bunch of whiny complaining CHILDREN who bitched whenever something went wrong with their orders.
Mr. Harolds pointed a chubby finger at a table near the exit and looked at my expectantly. I sighed, then started to walk.
As I passed a table, I spied a kid wiping his snotty fingers on a table I'd just cleaned a few hours earlier.
Little bastard.
I grabbed a rag off the bucket that was attached to the wall and started to clean the tables quickly in hopes that I wouldn't get spotted by any of the customers.
No such luck.
"Hey look, it's the retarded idiot who can't cook!" jeered a man that was sitting near me and his and his buds laughed maniacally. I merely lifted my head and then said in a very calm voice.
'I'd prefer the term special. It sounds less insulting. Now kindly piss off." They just stared at me in shock, probably had never heard me speak before. When I arrived at work the first time, they were there and they mocked me.
I kept silent even though it was very painful to.
Even though I wanted to snap, I couldn't.
I wouldn't.
See I preferred to act calm around these morons. If I didn't, I'd probably cause a scene. So that's why I keep my anger bottled up inside.
I continued cleaning, then went back to the back and started to wash the silverware, sighing at how miserable I was here.
That's when I noticed the knifes on the knife rack near my right hand. They had just been shipped here yesterday and that meant they were shiny and so very new...I gently slid one out of the rack and inspected the beautiful clear reflection it provided for me. My piercing blue eyes lit up as I felt a slow smile cross my face.
"Knives can be used for more than just chopping food.." I said softy while tracing my finger down the knife's blade.
I slowly slid the sharp blade over my finger. I watched the red, somehow alluring liquid drip out.
I wanted to see more,
Not my blood,
Theirs.
No longer would I be thought of as the retard who had no life. I wanted to see that ever growing pool of blood as they writhed in pain. To hear their useless pleading, to see the fear in their eyes. To watch as the life faded from their eyes.
The small gurgling in their throats as their strength failed them.
I felt a shiver down my spine as a drop of my blood splattered on the floor. I blinked. Then the pain hit me. I swore and ran the water over my wounded finger.
I imagined them in pain, writhing on the floor in an ever-growing pool of blood.
Somehow, that thought was comforting. A voice spoke in my head.
"Do it. End their pathetic lives."
My mouth twisted into a sadistic smile.
I watched as my boss stepped outside for a cigarette. Bastard. He'd kill me if I walked out while working. Kill..death humor...ha ha ha...
I wrapped the plaster round my finger. The blood soaked through. I held the knife in one hand, and picked up the rope we used to fix the frames when the broke.
When the boss stepped back in, I was ready. I stealthily approached fromm behind, and tied the rope round his wrists, cutting out the blood supply to his hands.
"Griffin, what the hell is up with-" his speech was cut short as I grabbed his tongue. In one quick movement I sliced it off. He screamed. An anguished, half gurgle, half scream.
I merely chuckled as his blood flowed freely from the stub of his tongue, and his face paled, eyes bloodshot with agony. I watched him writhe in pain, unable to move, unable to cry out.
Like a helpless little child.
I sliced his throat, and watched in wonder as a miniature rainbow of blood, a gruesome yet comforting sight, spurting out from the wound. His movement stilled.
Panting, I inspected his body and grinnied.
I had just killed a human being.
'Well Griffin, how did that feel? The warm red liquid running over your hands, hearing his screams of agony. It felt good didnt it?' the voice in my head cackled.
"Yes, it felt good. I want more. More blood. More suffering to others." I replied.
'Then just kill. Kill them all, kill the people who made your life a living Hell." The voice hissed.
I dragged his body away and managed to dump it in the dumpster.
"That's where the trash belongs...heh."
Then I high tailed it back to the restaurant.
I watched as Dick walked towards the counter and then he spotted me standing in the doorway that lead to the back room. Didn't really bother to wash the blood off.
I wanted him to see me like this.
I wanted him to scream and cry for me.
I wasn't particularly worried about anyone seeing me because there were so many people around and they were too busy chatting and eating to even focus on me.
Perfect.
Dick choked on a breath. He'd seen me. He looked like he had come face to face with a demon. I couldn't blame him. My hair was matted with blood, I was clutching a sharp knife, and my eyes and stance resembled a wild animal.
Terrified, he attempted to flee. Reacting quick as lightning, I threw the knife like a dart. It pierced his foot and pinned him to the floor. He swore furiously, then began crying like a child.
"You-bastard!" he sobbed.
"You made my life shit. I am just returning the favor." I said in a sickly calm voice, my eyes void of any emotion.
"No-" his voice was cut off as I smashed his head in with my fist. I kicked him so hard the knife tore at his foot, ripping it off, as his body fell to the floor. With a short gurgle, he was dead. I looked at his hands, his head, is feet beaten to a bloody pulp.
It was a quick death.
I looked at my hands covered in blood and various pieces of skin and shattered teeth.
I was a killer.
'Yes, Griffin, you are.' the voice in my head laughed.
And I loved it.
I then sneaked out the back door to make my final kill.
Bob's POV
Dick wasn't answering his cellphone. It didn't make sense. He was glued to his cell, it was never off or on silent. I searched his location on my gps app. The restaurant.
I ran towards the neon flashing sign. I nearly blacked out. Griffin stood there, coated with blood, a foot pinned to the floor, Dick's body lying mauled and lifeless on the floor. The manager lay some feet in from Griffin. His mouth was filled with thick red blood giving off a dead stench. I felt pure terror and a chill ran down my spine.
"You!" I ran at him, swallowing my fear and releasing it as anger as I punched Griffin in the jaw. He stumbled backwards and tried to regain his balance. In a split second, he was back on his feet He kicked me in the worst place to ever kick a guy.
I clutched myself, falling to my knees. Griffin pulled down one of the chains that we used to hang up the pots with, put it round my neck, and tightened it.
Spots exploded in my vision. I couldn't see.
"Ghack!" I coughed up blood. I felt my strength draining from my body. As I collapsed to the floor, I heard Griffin laughing maniacally.
I swore and rubbed my jaw as I looked down at Dick's neck, the chain wrapped tightly around his neck. And then glanced at the manager's throat where there was blood leaking out.
"Damn, I'm good." I smirked and then glanced at the two bodies, thinking. I needed to despose of them, cover my tracks.
Dismemberment? Nah, that'd take too long and plus I might get caught.
Cementation. Now that seemed like a great idea. Unfortunately, I didn't have any matches on me and I was far too lazy to walk in a desolate area to cremate the bodies.
Sighing, I dragged the bodies back to the restaurant and then lugged them into the kitchen and locekd the door. I then removed all my clothes and turned on the tap water, splashing it on my face and body as I watched the watery blood pool on the floor.
As soon as I rinsed all of the blood off, I dried myself off with a face cloth and then put my clothes back on. Humming to the tune of, "Ring around the Rosy", I turned on the faucet and washed my hands.
Grabbing a lighter from one of the cabinets, I unlocked the door and then glanced around me.
There was a chubby bald guy yelling at another man.
Screaming.
Yelling.
Annoying.
It would all be over soon.
I headed back into the back and unlocked the door as I neared the gas tanks that supplied the fuel for the grills. Tapping my chin with a finger, I found some long thick rope in a storage bin and then tied it to the left gas tank.
Biting my lip, I then popped open the lighter and set the fuse and tossed the lighter on the floor. Then I hauled my butt out through the back door and pulled the hood of my black hoodied jacket over my head, looking back.
I was a good ways from the building when it building exploded outwards, sending debris and fire everywhere. I thought about laughing, but instead sighed in relief that it was all over.
There would be time for laughing later.
The police would be sure to investigate, but they wouldn't be able to figure out it was me. All of the evidence had been blown up with the building. Gone up in flames. Poof.
I grinned wickedly as I pushed my foot down on the break pedal, chuckling to myself as I sped down the road.
I wanted to do this again, to kill, to make people suffer. But I wouldn't kill an innocent person, oh no.
Question was, who needed to be killed next?
Where would I go?
Those two questions would be answered in due time.

A full length story called Psycopath will be preimiering after this. This was just the prequel.

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