thethemeis: Monsters
theauthoris: Deadbeat
They'd call me a monster, if they ever knew. Perhaps they're right.
I've always said to myself that i'd never actually do anything. No matter how great the urge became, i'd never act on it. 'There are always other ways to get my kicks' i'd think to myself. 'The internet is full of stuff, there are literally thousands of videos out there. It's horrible to think of the immense suffering and mental torture that those videos capture, but it won't cause any more hurt if I watch them. The damage is already done. And if it silences the voice in my head for a week or two, then it's for the best really.' And so I was able to control my desires for a while.
I often saw stories on the news that awoke my interest. It was hard not to, they're usually everywhere. I can't get on a train or walk down the street without seeing the graphic and shocking images staring back at me. It's a struggle not to show my keen interest and delight as people stand around the office retelling the gory details to each other. I'm sure on more than one occasion I have been caught smiling innapropriately by my colleagues. Perhaps they already know what I am. The amount of rumours going around that place, it'd be a miracle if there wasn't one about me.
On occasion i'd let myself imagine that I carried out one of these grave acts. Pictures of my handy-work on the front of all the national newspapers and on television screens up and down the country. I'd lay in bed and plan out how i'd go about it. The way I would pick the target, how i'd pick a date and the excitement would build in the weeks before. I'd go through ever little detail in my mind, the scenario was rarely the same twice. It seemed harmless enough, so long as I always knew that they were only fantasies. So long as I never believed I would actually do it.
My dad always knew what I was like, what I was into. We never spoke about it directly, but he could tell. Looks he gave me at times when he caught me staring too long, the way he'd always change the channel or move a conversation on if it ever got to near to the topic. It's as if he knew just as well as I did what might set me off. Perhaps he was into it to, spending all his life putting off his urges. Who knows, maybe he'd actually acted on them at some point. Maybe one of those stories I remember so vividly from the television during my childhood was his doing. He could've even made it onto my wall-of-fame.
Then one day, I saw something so beautiful that I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my urges to myself anymore. Whilst waiting for the bus I saw a young mother pushing a pram with a care-free toddler following behind. The your girl was skipping down the road swinging her arms and singing to herself. She was wearing the typical blue chequered dress that many young schoolgirls are seen in. Her hair was bright blonde and in pigtails, with two red ribbons tied into bows. She was the very picture of joy and innocence and I could help but find myself watch her skip down the road.
As she crossed the road with her mother, she noticed me watching her. She stopped and smiled back at me, wavy with her tiny hand. I could barely contain my excitement, I was full of energy watching the scene before me. I had watched countless videos and seen thousands of graphic pictures on the internet, but i'd never come so close to something so erotically engaging.
Though I could see the car slowly approaching her, the little girl just stood waving oblivious to her impending fate. I saw the whole scene unfold in fantastic slow motion. The young girl was not much taller than the bonnet of the BMW which collided with her, but the impact was enough the snap her body back and carry her up onto the car. As she flew through the windscreen she already looked like a small crash test dummy. Glass flew in the direction of the male driver and his young female companion and to my joy I could just make out another tiny passenger in the baby seat behind the couple. The small girl flew straight through the back window and rolled twice before coming to a stop on the tarmac. In the panic the driver veered off towards the sidewalk making his way towards a old couple that had no chance to escape the chaos. The old man was thrown several feet onto the pavement whilst his wife was pinned against a wall by the now stationary BMW.
Once the scene had come to a rest the whole street exploding in such noisy despair that nobody seemed to notice my joyous laughter at the whole event. Of course i'd seen far more chaotic scenes on my laptop, far greater disasters with much higher death counts. I've almost lost count of the number of times i've brought myself to an ecstatic climax watching footage of the twin towers going down or the 2004 Asian tsunamis. This was nothing in comparison to those events, but it was so real to me. Everyone else from the bus stop had got up and run over to offer help to the victims, but I dare not move anywhere for fear of showing my now raging erection. I'd never felt any rush like this, to think that i'd spend most of my life running from this experience. The moment that car made impact I knew there was no going back, I would be doing everything I could to see scenes like this again. My years of strategic plans had to be put into practice. I simply had to see such chaos up close again.
On occasion i'd let myself imagine that I carried out one of these grave acts. Pictures of my handy-work on the front of all the national newspapers and on television screens up and down the country. I'd lay in bed and plan out how i'd go about it. The way I would pick the target, how i'd pick a date and the excitement would build in the weeks before. I'd go through ever little detail in my mind, the scenario was rarely the same twice. It seemed harmless enough, so long as I always knew that they were only fantasies. So long as I never believed I would actually do it.
My dad always knew what I was like, what I was into. We never spoke about it directly, but he could tell. Looks he gave me at times when he caught me staring too long, the way he'd always change the channel or move a conversation on if it ever got to near to the topic. It's as if he knew just as well as I did what might set me off. Perhaps he was into it to, spending all his life putting off his urges. Who knows, maybe he'd actually acted on them at some point. Maybe one of those stories I remember so vividly from the television during my childhood was his doing. He could've even made it onto my wall-of-fame.
Then one day, I saw something so beautiful that I knew I wouldn't be able to keep my urges to myself anymore. Whilst waiting for the bus I saw a young mother pushing a pram with a care-free toddler following behind. The your girl was skipping down the road swinging her arms and singing to herself. She was wearing the typical blue chequered dress that many young schoolgirls are seen in. Her hair was bright blonde and in pigtails, with two red ribbons tied into bows. She was the very picture of joy and innocence and I could help but find myself watch her skip down the road.
As she crossed the road with her mother, she noticed me watching her. She stopped and smiled back at me, wavy with her tiny hand. I could barely contain my excitement, I was full of energy watching the scene before me. I had watched countless videos and seen thousands of graphic pictures on the internet, but i'd never come so close to something so erotically engaging.
Though I could see the car slowly approaching her, the little girl just stood waving oblivious to her impending fate. I saw the whole scene unfold in fantastic slow motion. The young girl was not much taller than the bonnet of the BMW which collided with her, but the impact was enough the snap her body back and carry her up onto the car. As she flew through the windscreen she already looked like a small crash test dummy. Glass flew in the direction of the male driver and his young female companion and to my joy I could just make out another tiny passenger in the baby seat behind the couple. The small girl flew straight through the back window and rolled twice before coming to a stop on the tarmac. In the panic the driver veered off towards the sidewalk making his way towards a old couple that had no chance to escape the chaos. The old man was thrown several feet onto the pavement whilst his wife was pinned against a wall by the now stationary BMW.
Once the scene had come to a rest the whole street exploding in such noisy despair that nobody seemed to notice my joyous laughter at the whole event. Of course i'd seen far more chaotic scenes on my laptop, far greater disasters with much higher death counts. I've almost lost count of the number of times i've brought myself to an ecstatic climax watching footage of the twin towers going down or the 2004 Asian tsunamis. This was nothing in comparison to those events, but it was so real to me. Everyone else from the bus stop had got up and run over to offer help to the victims, but I dare not move anywhere for fear of showing my now raging erection. I'd never felt any rush like this, to think that i'd spend most of my life running from this experience. The moment that car made impact I knew there was no going back, I would be doing everything I could to see scenes like this again. My years of strategic plans had to be put into practice. I simply had to see such chaos up close again.
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