Taming His Big Monster
The soothing stench of blood, the smug feeling of watching those bastard fuckers vacant bodies, and the thought and knowledge that they became like that by my hands, made my heart flutter in sheer excitement as I kept going and just like zombies, they never stopped coming.
It was just as though they were puppets who were controlled into fire or a hurricane, and willingly, no matter how hard and harsh it looked, they jumped into it regardless, anyway. Or as if they'd been tired of their lives and just ran to the Grim Reaper, to take their lives and free their burdens and it never repulsed me to watch them being blown to pieces and then, twitch, and freeze. Forever.
"You can't get in." an unfa
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