The Story of a Sadist
folder
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,463
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Fantasy & Science Fiction › General
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
3
Views:
1,463
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
The Story of a Sadist
Disclaimer: I own everything! Wow I have wanted to say that for awhile. I really don’t mind if people use my stuff as long as I get credit.
A/N: Hello! This is my first attempt at something original although I have been writing fan fiction for awhile now. I would love any fack ack or questions; I am really lonely and need people to talk to! And thanks to Meko for being my faithful beta reader even if I have left the wonderful world of slash.
The Story of a Sadist
Chapter 1
“I will tell you what it is like. It is a beach, a cold starkly beautiful stretch of sand. The sky is gray and the waters are a turbulent black. The sand is molten silver when the moon decides to shine.”
A cold blade was pressed against his neck. His eyes stared in horror at the figure in front of him. He knew he had crossed the wrong person. ‘If any gods really exist, I will do anything to live someone please save me.’
His mind was reduced to vague pleadings and promises of redemption. A mantra of help me began as the voice of his killer continued. The voice was soft and empty of hate. If anything it almost sounded like guilt laced with love.
“The coast is filled with people. All look different, all hideous at the point of their deaths. You will feel grateful that you do not look like them. That you have all of your limbs intact albeit a bit sliced up.”
His killer loved him. Truly loved him for all his faults and shortcomings and for that unconditional love he was going to die. A slow painful death, separated from his mortal body by a skilled reaper.
He gulped; he did not want to contemplate the pain that he knew was coming. His mind cleared as he was pulled from the welcoming arms of oblivion. A magical net caught his consciousness and clung to his body.
This had to be a reason why this one was called The Sadist. So calm and calculating, he could not begin to wonder how many had been dispatched in this exact manner. Pain lanced up his arms as twin knives danced across his forearms.
He struggled against the net knowing that if he broke free he could remove himself from the pain. He wanted this torment to end, the knowledge of how to get free and sensing that he would not be able to just made it that muore ore unbearable.
The weapon at throthroat had not moved, yet somehow pain was on both of his forearms. He slid his eyes down and realized his attacker was only working on one arm. The shining blade left red lines and a phantom knife, its twin, traced the pattern on his other side.
Confusion melted into the pain as the knife was plunged into his palm, pinning his hand to the ground. His agonized scream was cut short by carefully applied pressure to his larynx. More magic to taunt him with the promise of lasting sensation.
“There will be many who will talk to you, laugh with you, and create memories with you. You will be there with thousands who have at least one thing in common with you.” He could almost see what was being described.
He had a bird’s eye view of the coast with its grotesque inhabitants. He did not want to join them and yet he was glad to have some sort of companionship with those who had gone through this before him. ‘I guess there are worse places to go.’
“What will that He He finally got courage enough to speak. The dagger’s edge bit into his skin as he did so. His mind clouded further as thin needles were being pushed into his elbows, securing them to the ground.
He clenched his teeth together willing himself not to make a sound. This person loved inflicting pain on others; he would do all in his power to make this a less pleasurable experience.
The net was allowed to slip and his mind grasped the edges so he cohavehave his answer. He could not die before he knew. These were the last moments of his life he had to make them count for something.
His whole existence had been worth nothing up to now. Now he was going to learn the truth, he already had a vision of what was to come. He was going to be one of the few who could proudly say that he knew what was on the other side while still alive. Unfortunately no one else would ever know. He would be dead before he could relate the vision to a living being.
“You would all have been killed by me. You will be in my care for the rest of eternity.” His vision was fading fast. Inky black tint covered his eyes. At least his question was answered.
A/N: I know this was short I just wanted to see if I could generate any interest before I pour my time into it.
A/N: Hello! This is my first attempt at something original although I have been writing fan fiction for awhile now. I would love any fack ack or questions; I am really lonely and need people to talk to! And thanks to Meko for being my faithful beta reader even if I have left the wonderful world of slash.
The Story of a Sadist
Chapter 1
“I will tell you what it is like. It is a beach, a cold starkly beautiful stretch of sand. The sky is gray and the waters are a turbulent black. The sand is molten silver when the moon decides to shine.”
A cold blade was pressed against his neck. His eyes stared in horror at the figure in front of him. He knew he had crossed the wrong person. ‘If any gods really exist, I will do anything to live someone please save me.’
His mind was reduced to vague pleadings and promises of redemption. A mantra of help me began as the voice of his killer continued. The voice was soft and empty of hate. If anything it almost sounded like guilt laced with love.
“The coast is filled with people. All look different, all hideous at the point of their deaths. You will feel grateful that you do not look like them. That you have all of your limbs intact albeit a bit sliced up.”
His killer loved him. Truly loved him for all his faults and shortcomings and for that unconditional love he was going to die. A slow painful death, separated from his mortal body by a skilled reaper.
He gulped; he did not want to contemplate the pain that he knew was coming. His mind cleared as he was pulled from the welcoming arms of oblivion. A magical net caught his consciousness and clung to his body.
This had to be a reason why this one was called The Sadist. So calm and calculating, he could not begin to wonder how many had been dispatched in this exact manner. Pain lanced up his arms as twin knives danced across his forearms.
He struggled against the net knowing that if he broke free he could remove himself from the pain. He wanted this torment to end, the knowledge of how to get free and sensing that he would not be able to just made it that muore ore unbearable.
The weapon at throthroat had not moved, yet somehow pain was on both of his forearms. He slid his eyes down and realized his attacker was only working on one arm. The shining blade left red lines and a phantom knife, its twin, traced the pattern on his other side.
Confusion melted into the pain as the knife was plunged into his palm, pinning his hand to the ground. His agonized scream was cut short by carefully applied pressure to his larynx. More magic to taunt him with the promise of lasting sensation.
“There will be many who will talk to you, laugh with you, and create memories with you. You will be there with thousands who have at least one thing in common with you.” He could almost see what was being described.
He had a bird’s eye view of the coast with its grotesque inhabitants. He did not want to join them and yet he was glad to have some sort of companionship with those who had gone through this before him. ‘I guess there are worse places to go.’
“What will that He He finally got courage enough to speak. The dagger’s edge bit into his skin as he did so. His mind clouded further as thin needles were being pushed into his elbows, securing them to the ground.
He clenched his teeth together willing himself not to make a sound. This person loved inflicting pain on others; he would do all in his power to make this a less pleasurable experience.
The net was allowed to slip and his mind grasped the edges so he cohavehave his answer. He could not die before he knew. These were the last moments of his life he had to make them count for something.
His whole existence had been worth nothing up to now. Now he was going to learn the truth, he already had a vision of what was to come. He was going to be one of the few who could proudly say that he knew what was on the other side while still alive. Unfortunately no one else would ever know. He would be dead before he could relate the vision to a living being.
“You would all have been killed by me. You will be in my care for the rest of eternity.” His vision was fading fast. Inky black tint covered his eyes. At least his question was answered.
A/N: I know this was short I just wanted to see if I could generate any interest before I pour my time into it.