As I sit in the dimly lit chamber of my twisted lair, surrounded by the stench of rot and decay, I am consumed by a hunger that cannot be satiated. It’s a craving that drives me to the very edge of sanity, a maddening desire that threatens to consume me whole. It’s a taste for the tender flesh of the innocent, a flavor that only the purest of souls can provide. My mind is a maelstrom of depraved thoughts, a never-ending cycle of carnage and destruction. And yet, amidst the chaos, I find a twisted sense of peace.
I recall the first time I felt this insatiable hunger, the first time I was driven to the brink of madness by the mere thought of taking a life. It was a child, a tiny, helpless thing, no more than a few years old. I had been watching it for days, studying its every move, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And when I finally did, the rush of adrenaline was like nothing I had ever experienced before. It was a high that I would come to crave, a high that I would chase for the rest of eternity.
But it’s not just the act of taking a life that I crave, it’s the connection that comes with it. The fear, the terror, the desperation in the eyes of my victims as they realize their fate. It’s a bond that I share with no one, a bond that I am alone in. And yet, in the darkness, I find a twisted sense of comfort, a sense of belonging to something greater than myself. It’s a curse, a plague that haunts me to this day, a reminder that I am forever bound to the shadows, forever doomed to walk the twisted path of the damned.
>Soulkyn