Short Story
Member rating: No Rating | Words: | Submitted: Thu Mar 24 2005
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Short Story. It was a dark, rainy, horrible night, it was 10 o'clock I had finished work for the day and left the stadium as usual where I worked as a cleaner. I noticed mist lurking over the muddy brown waters of the river. Then it hit me that need, want, death was in the air, I could almost taste it, the exact same way you could smell rotting bodies in a morgue; tonight was the night. I was hungry, I needed to kill. People were scared of me; maybe it was my long black greasy hair, my piercing blue eyes, my tall muscular physique or that scar. Whatever it was they always ignored me, like the poor broken bench that people only ever use if they have to. I followed the river round to the park and unlocked the door of the not quite so public toilet, where it all happens,...


