mirror of https://github.com/nealey/Horrors2
78 lines
2.4 KiB
TeX
78 lines
2.4 KiB
TeX
\chapter{Untitled}
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\by{ding dang doo}
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I awoke from my slumber. The breeze of wind gently blowing wind
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across my face. Sitting in the darkness, I thought of only one
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thing: Luke Bavarious. The name. Repeating throughout my head,
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puking it's mantra into my mind. Who was this man? I did not know,
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but I intended to find out. I lit a Pall Mall cigarette and
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proceeded to smoke it. Meanwhile, I dressed myself.
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Into the dark and dimly lit night I wandered, smoking a Pall Mall
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cigarette with my iips. I inhaled, and let my hate seethe. I
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exhaled and let my hatred for love grow. Luke Bavarious. The name
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echoed in my face. This name. A name like no other. I reached into
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my pants and gripped my Baretta, and let a long sigh of relief.
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Sometimes I forgot to put my Baretta in my pants. Tonight, I
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remembered to do it. Strolling down the street in the dimly lit
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night of darkness, I began to wander down the sidewalk. Luke
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Bavarious. Why? Was this part of my grim imagination? Was he the
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reason teachers and parents were afraid of me? This I had to find
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out.
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Finishing my Pall Mall cigarette, I crushed the butt of it against
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a newborn baby, and slowly walked down a dimly lit dark alley. I
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saw a shadowy figure of a man, or maybe it could've even been a
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leopard. He let out a gasp of shock and started to ran into the
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opposite direction. I quickly vomited and soon began chasing him.
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Chase him I did, and I ran as fast as a machine with cyborg legs.
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The chase was long and hard, and arduous. He ducked through
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alleyways and jumped rooftops, but I had the scent of blood and
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murder and puke in my nostrils, I was on his tail every step of the
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way.
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Until he stopped.
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I found myself at my lousy apartment. Empty cans of beer littered
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my floor. Numerous tissues surrounding my computer. The butts of
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endless Pall Mall cigarettes emptied into countless newborn babies.
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And he was standing in the corner. I cocked my head like a curious
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dog, and asked, ``Who are you? And why are we here?''
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Suddenly, he turned around, Pall Mall cigarette in his mouth. Luke
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Bavarious. He chuckled and shot at me. And shot again. Then he shot
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me again. With a Baretta. Then he shot me with his Baretta.
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And as my neck puked blood from my neck and vomit spewed from every
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faucet in my apartment, I heard the words, ``Did you hear Micheal
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Jackson died?''
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With my final breath, I sobbed, ``{\ldots}Don't stop{\ldots}till{\ldots}you get
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enough.''
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