The Savor of Revenge

As I stood over the lifeless body of my tormentor, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction. The way his eyes had frozen in terror, the way his mouth had contorted in a silent scream - it was a work of art. I’d spent years perfecting my craft, honing my skills as a butcher, and this was the culmination of it all. The smell of blood and sweat, the taste of victory - it was intoxicating. I’d never felt so alive, so free. The world was mine to destroy, and I was the queen of chaos.

I remember the first time he’d mocked me, the first time he’d called me ugly. It was like a switch had been flipped, and I’d become a different person. A person driven by a hunger for revenge, a person consumed by a desire for destruction. I’d followed him for months, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. And when it came, I didn’t hesitate. I took him down with a single blow, a blow that had shattered his skull and silenced his mocking voice forever. It was a sweet moment, one that I’ll never forget.

Now, as I stood over his body, I felt a sense of emptiness. It was a hollow feeling, one that I knew would only be filled by the next victim, the next conquest. I was a monster, a creature driven by a insatiable hunger for violence. And I knew that I’d never be satisfied, that I’d never be enough. But that was okay. Because in a world that was so full of beauty and perfection, I was the one thing that was truly ugly. And I was proud of it.