Don't want to read" Let me make your ears bleed: https://youtu.be/xgGW7KhRC-E

They put it inside of me. The girl I'm calling Firefly saw it, though I don't think she understands it. I explained it to her; it's like drawing something that doesn't exist in your picture. Sound, for instance. You use lines, or words to represent it. That's what happened to me. Something higher than we are drew something inside of me, and shoved it back against my soul.

There's always something stirring in there, and it woke up, and I hear it all the time now. Like tinnitus, ringing in my ears. I drink more to dull it out.

At least I know what my job is; this ****hole is broken and I need to find out why. I'm ****ing mechanic, this time.

I've been ****ing this Firefly for days now. She's a good sport about it, and seems to know where we stand. I don't have to explain it to her, so it works. This isn't something I need to complicate. She's got a lot of ***holes sniffing her ass, hoping for a chance to hump her leg, that provides a lot of entertainment.

And one of those ***holes gave her a kitten. Can you believe that mother ($%*er gave her a kitten" Poor #($*ing sap.

Of course, she asks me to hold it, and of course it scratched the **** out of my hand. ****ing animals. But I like to see the blood of the meat I'm in, reminds me it's real, at least for now.

She's more than I deserve, and I'm probably fucking her over, but....I have an assistant for tonight.

For those of you not playing the home game around here, there's ley lines. These channels of energy that run under the world, and I need to get to one. But there's one little ****ing problem. There's a church sitting on the goddamn thing. I don't recognize the emblem, and I don't really ****ing care. I stalked it for a few days, and it's run by this priest. The kind of priest that guides you, and gives you direction. Sometimes that guidance is to the collection plate. If you're too poor or homeless, sometimes that guidance is to the cult at the top of the hill where a conman works you. Hell, I'm pretty sure he's giving those boys three lollipops for their other services.

To tell the truth, I don't know exactly what the worthless mother****er was doing to boys or girls, but I knew about the room in the basement, with the camera, the red lights, the bed, the mirrors and the blood spotting on the sheets. I know enough.

I have no problems with what I'm about to do. But, I'm not sure about firefly, yet. We're riding a stolen motorcycle, and that didn't put her off. From what I know about her, it must be a rush to feel this free. And that's where we are now.

We pulled up to the corner, hopped off the sex machine we rode on and I lead her down the alley toward the church. I stop and I look at her and I can see she's not quite ready for this, yet. We're drunk, and I'm lit up in the hooch we consumed, but, she's too calm. I can fix that. Heeh.

I take her in the alley. It's short, it's sweet and she's plenty worked up. Once we're back in order we find the back of that church. Old, and stone — well, old for the standards of this side of town. I planted the firebomb behind a dumpster in a heating vent. Safer keeping than where I built it.

I know there's only one person within an eighth of a mile. Probably no one who cares in twice that. I make her call out to him while I pound on the door. It makes this easy. If you're a perverse priest and hear a soft little vulnerable voice, you'd come running too. A few moment pass" When he opens the door he's met with my fist in the bridge of his nose, it breaks and he cries, complete with tears. Pathetic ****

" I feel it building up inside me.

She goes inside, I've told her what to do, so she checks the room and waits. I didn't tell her what to expect, which should keep her busy looking around in there. I stay and do the fun part of this job. She doesn't need this. I need this. I'm not a killer, this time, not by trade" but they still put it all inside of me.

He's on the ground and I feel the punch. Every. Single. Punch. As my fist collides with his head, his head cracks against asphalt and I want to feel it all. My biceps burn. I can let it all out, if I want. There's a hundred way to do this, many of them where I rip him to shreds. I don't want those, I want this. The bone, the blood, the flesh, and every ****ing pounding strike hitting my nerves like lightning.

I feel him flail, but his sounds are lost to me and I don't hear them. A fingernail gouges my cheek, leaving me a reminder. If it scars, I'll wear that ****ing thing like a badge of honor.

No matter how ****ed up I am, there's always some piece of **** that's worse. And if feels good to beat mother ****ers like this into beef. I love what I'm becoming" for now. The new sound of hunger drowns the others out in my head, and I rejoice; this sack of **** found perdition. I could've hunted something to down, but I got lucky and this one was in my way. Easy peasy, as they say.

I punch into his chest and I feel his ribs crack. I return to his face, and it's still a ****ing face, and that just can't stand. I see to that, and I feel my left hand crack. I don't stop, the right has more than enough power to make up for what?s pulled out of the left. His eyes meet my thumbs. It's cliche, I know, but I'm a ****ing sucker for the classics tonight.

I rise up, he's still alive. I don't know if he" if it' is conscious, but I hope it is. It's on the brink of death and I hope it feels every inch of it slip away when it descends into whatever hell it's linked to. I grab my bag and meet Firefly down stairs.

I reach the floor and I feel the lines surging through the world below, hazed by the static of the relics and icons they built on the site. They need to go so I can do my job. I may just be a mechanic this time, but at least I got to have some fun.

Good girl. Good little girl, my Firefly. She's doing my work for me, and found the box with the treasure trove. A box full of tiny electronic cards and sin and lust and sickness.

I kill tonight. I look at her and she doesn't know I want to wrap my fingers around her throat tonight. I won't. I won't"

I arm the thing in my bag. Technology this place doesn't know about, yet. Something given to me, it'll burn it all down, clean. Melt most of the things in my way, and clear that static.

I thank the ***holes, even though they didn't put this ****ing husk of a man in my way. Just the same, I don't feel so bad. And every bad part of me feels a little good. I take her upstairs and I dump the sinner's evidence all over the heap it called a body. It won't live. Case closed. I'll ****ing destroy any cop that thinks they need to pursue this. Maybe her kitten loving detective friend will want to get involved.

We go back to the bike and I drink, I wash a bit of the sickness off my hands, and I grab her. Her mouth is mine. It's all a haze of anger, rage, passion and lust, filling every ounce of me.

Yeeeees, this feel so good.

We, leave, hide, and burn the bike, and then we ****, the rest blurs. Then I wake up. Alone. In my room. The whine of the others in my head and a migraine picking my brain out through my temples. My hand is broken and I feel the burn on my cheek. I can heal it, but I won't. I own it.

The Firefly' She's safe in her bed, somewhere else. She's free....or she thinks she is? And I feel envy of it. So much ****ing envy.