A Writer's Objectives

Demon from the Past

Happy Halloween everyone! And for those who celebrate, Blessed Samhain! Tonight we honor those who have left the world of the living.

Today’s excerpt is sticking to my Halloween theme. Another horror piece that I wrote. This one is a fictional spin on Jack the Ripper.  Be aware that the content of this excerpt is not suitable for all ages. If you have difficulty reading about blood, gore and death, do not continue reading.

 

 

So many years had passed since the first time. It was miraculous that no one had found him. The clues he’d left were so very obvious. And yet, those rat-bastards had not discovered him.  So he continued his reign of terror, traveling all over the world. None, however, had been as satisfying as the last wench from his first cluster in London. The Whitechapel district hadn’t seen such acts before he arrived. And they suspected one who had lived there for so long. That poor surgeon…

He sat back on his heals to admire his work. Her chest was an open tomb before him and he couldn’t help but let a small smile form at the beauty of the scene before him. He hadn’t been as brutal as he usually was this time; he decided to forgo the removal of the limbs. But disemboweling her and ripping out her heart was the things he could not skip over.

Slowly, and ever so carefully, he stood and backed away from where his artwork lay. She’d been a beautiful little doe-eyed sweetheart. Her brown hair rested upon her pillow like silk waves. Her skin, that which wasn’t torn or covered in her own blood, was a deeper tan than anything he’d seen before. Foreign blood was always so much more  satisfying, in his opinion. After all the years he’d been traveling and creating his pieces of art, he found those from Mexican lineage to be the more magnificent ones.

Staring into her glazed, deep brown eyes, he contemplated taking them as a souvenir. It was a rare thing for him to do, but she had seemed special. If he hadn’t have had to kill her, he may have turned her… but alas he found he could never give up the full kill. The rush, the joy, the complete feeling of nirvana that came from it all made it worth so much more than turning another ever would. He knew from experience that turning was a process so much less satisfying.

 

 

Thanks for reading today’s excerpt! The full short story can be found here. I hope everyone has a wonderful day, and that their night is filled with fun, love and blessings from the past.

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