The killer

A serial killer stalks the residence of a small town.

He walked through the room, his feet stepping in the pool of blood that bathed the floor. He was holding a knife that was slippery with blood, stalking his next victim. The victim was a woman of around thirty years old, who had been his friends as a kid; but now the man hated her and would love nothing more than to see her guts hanging out of her. He relished hearing her screams; loved hearing all the screams in fact, as he buried the knife into his victim's soft flesh. The man was covered in blood.

The woman was significantly ahead of him, screaming her head off, trying to run, to get away, to escape. But no one could escape. Sure they tried. But they ended up dead anyway. Then the woman stopped at the base of the stairs. He could see her. She whipped around and tried getting down the stairs to freedom, but the man grabbed her by her hair and slammed her head against the wall. Blood trickled down the side of her head as she just lie there on the floor. The man grabbed her hair, took the bloody blade, and ran it down her throat, tracing a line of blood down her delicate and soft neckline. 

"What the f**k do you want!!!" screamed the woman.

"Oh nothing much," the man purred, "You see, I just get a thrill from watch people suffer. That is why I use a knife to kill. A gun is too quick." The man was smiling a bloody grin. "Now I am going to kill you."

"Please NO!!" she screamed. The knife flashed before her eyes. She suddenly stopped screaming and decided to start thrashing around and fighting, trying to escape death, but we all know that wasn't going to happen. The knife plunged down and stabbed into her neck. Blood bubbled from her throat, pouring out of the massive hole in her neck. She could no longer scream. Her windpipe had been severed.

Blood sprayed the man in the face. He retracted the knife from her throat and saw it covered with blood, gore and flesh. 

He was still smiling.

She was nearly dead already. 

He wanted to draw out the death. He stabbed her in the chest, watching with a visceral glee as blood poured down her chest. He saw the ribs, perfectly lined up, and then the heart, beating heavily against the ribs, pumping the blood out of her chest and her throat. He stabbed his hands into her chest and pulled out several bloodstained ribs. 

Her hand was covered in hot, disgusting blood. 

He took the knife out of her chest.

And cut open her stomach, guts plopping out, intestines wriggling out like snakes. The squelching the flesh filled the air. He threw the guts and intestines to the floor. The woman was dead. Blood continued to spray from her neck in a arterial spray, before abruptly stopping.