sortacutelotsastupid (ha you're awesome Lauren)

Jeez. Men. Ha.

If only people didn't comment mysteriously anonymously... Ha now I'm curious!!

I wrote a poem heh...

When Bey the little grumblebee
Went humbling down the till
His criends they fried "Why flon't you dy!"
And yet he's tumbling still.

Ha oh writer's craft.

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He looked up from his craggled perch deep in the darkest depths of the most feared and avoided level of hell. Those so horribly condemned in death as to be banished to such a depth could only be pitied, regardless of the evils they had spread in life. Heart-shattering screams, moans played a horrific and perpetual symphony, drumming its way to a crescendo, the sounds of eternal damnation.

A slight smirk began to inch its way across what little face he had left as his tattered eyes closed and he listened, trying to draw their screams, their pain, into himself--as if it warmed him to do so. He was but a shadow here now. Not like the rest. His suffering was at an end. Theirs--his lips curled into a sneer--theirs was only beginning.

A particularly close shriek--a momentary solo in the symphony--woke him from his reverie and he swiveled his head around, shoulders and body following in one fluid motion just in time to witness the beheading of what might once have been a beautiful woman, her screams continuing to pierce the air as head and body were carried in separate directions. Tears streamed down her ghostly pale face, still very much alive and still feeling every terrible second of her torture.

Because one cannot die twice.

Turning away--he was done with that now--he raised the shadowy remains of his head to gaze up into the greedy darkness that had swallowed the roof. Towards the surface. Not much longer now and he would have the run of the world once again. And this time they would not stop him. They wouldn't be able to. The fools.

A cruel smile ravaged his lips and he nearly laughed aloud. How surprised and how outraged they would all be when they realized the truth. As it was, all of humanity was like a dog chasing its tail--and catching it. He would relish the moment when it discovered, after chewing off its own tail, that it could no longer walk. And he would arrive ready, leash in hand. They had damned themselves this time. Things would go his way, this time.

Because one cannot die twice.

And he was counting on it.

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And now it is....


MARCH BREAK!

woo.