Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24982950-20140830193450

Isaac lay restless in his bed, it was late at night, and the sound of the cold wind outside seemed to be banging on the windows, almost enraged at not being able to break through to the inside. In all the 13 years Isaac had been alive, he’d had some pretty fucked up thoughts, but tonight topped them all. Isaac had always presumed he had chronic insomnia, but tonight he realised that it was the burning desire to murder three people that made his life very close to a living hell. These certain three assholes were named Melissa, Darren and Randy. Isaac had put up with their bullshit more time than he cared to count, and decided that these three should be the ones who perish his bloodthirsty desire. But of course, Isaac was no longer sleeping in his comfy bed, he was in an abandoned shed, deep in Smiling Willow Forest, he had Randy tied and restrained to the wall. Hung up all around him were chains, maces, knives and other miscellaneous sharp objects. Randy was the easiest to kill, so Isaac went for him first. He was the least popular of the trio, small, chubby and smelling of body odour, but with a sarcastic however mainly arrogantly stubborn side, it really was a shame that Randy had to die, he was, in all honesty, the quietest, and gave Isaac the least hassle. Isaac had started to like the sound of the begging and pleading not to be gutted by this point, but was sick of dealing with the crap these people had caused for him. He picked up his weapon of choice from the wall, an old military pen knife, presumably left by the farmer who once used this shed as a slaughterhouse for his livestock. He kneeled down, knife in hand, and lifted up Randy’s mask. “Well then, you piece of shit. The tables have turned. Any last words before I murder your sorry ass?” Isaac questioned. “I’m…I’m sorry. I never knew how much of an ass I was being. Just do what you will, I know my fate.” Replied Randy, coughing and stuttering. Jeff lifted him up by his hair and cut a slit in Randy’s throat. Isaac let go and kicked the corpse that was now hanging forward off of the wall. Isaac never understood why you shouldn’t hit girls. What’s so taboo about hitting another human being, just because they had breasts and a different reproductive organ from him? He guessed it had something to do with chivalry, but he supposed that didn’t apply to whores like Melissa. She would always taunt Isaac, after he’d been roughed up, spread rumours about him and always made sure no girls would want to go out with him. She had even, somehow, engineered the betrayal of all Isaac’s friends. She too was older than Isaac. Knowing that Melissa’s parents were out, probably buying their daughter gifts, the stuck up bitch. He could hear a masculine voice along with Melissa’s shrill tones. “The next victim of her crabs… or worse.” Isaac said to himself, “agonising slow death from an STD,” he went on, “or a quick merciful death from my knife?” and he grinned. Melissa was sprucing herself up for Brad who was waiting in the next room, for the least she could do. She smiled at her apparent ease at getting guys to do whatever she wanted. Brad was wasted of course, but that is how she liked it. “He just came in, drank too much and passed out.” Was a better excuse than “I was horny, so invited him over to fuck me.” She finished, and walked in to the bedroom. At first she thought Brad had passed out, because he wasn’t moving. Or breathing. There was a trail of blood from Brad’s left ear to the open window… Melissa might have fainted, but at that moment, she was knocked out. Isaac congratulated himself on such a sneaky attempt. He had climbed through the bedroom window, dispatched Brad, climbed back out, gone through a ground floor window, grabbed a frying pan from the kitchen, then lay in wait for Melissa and knocked her out cold. She woke up though, bound and gagged as Isaac carved into her face “For the sin of vanity.” He whispered as the girl screamed and struggled, “and for all the stolen hearts…” Isaac whispered again, raising his knife over Melissa’s heaving chest. The girl could only scream. After throwing it up and down, Isaac pocketed the still warm, bloody heart in his white hoodie, and left, leaving a mess that would make the house’s owners heave and fear for their own lives. Isaac had decided that the worst of this miserable trio of arrogant sons of bitches was Darren, well, and that daughter of a bitch too. So he decided Darren had the worst fate of the three, he supposed, smiling at the new bedroom decoration in his hoodie pocket. Isaac knew that Darren had a basketball game at the school that night, and if he knew Darren, which he did, more than most people, he would be sent off for bad behaviour, and as a result move to the changing rooms to let out his rage. “I can show him true rage” Isaac murmured to himself gleefully. Isaac was still a small size at this age and was able to fit into the lockers, so he picked a lock and crawled in. “Smells of feet in here” Isaac thought, Then it gave him an idea. He had found a sock and realised it was ok, he had forgotten his gag, and the sock would do as a replacement. Isaac sat in silence for what seemed like hours, waiting and waiting for the sound of a ballistic adolescent to come bursting through the changing room doors. When he heard it, he tensed himself and waited for the sound of a door slamming shut amidst swearing. After a few minutes of what seemed to be lockers being punched, he looked out of the door vent, and saw that Darren was facing away, sat on a bench, this was Isaac’s chance. He made a quick decision, then sprang from the locker and on to Darren's back; luckily for Isaac, he had remembered the cable ties: Darren was strong and would have thrown Isaac off if the contact with the floor hadn't winded him. Isaac tied up Darren and punched him in the face until he bled, “You sick son of a bitch, for years I’ve had to put up with your bullshit, fucking years! Years you tormented me and pissed me off, all for a good laugh. Well, not anymore!” screamed Isaac, it just so happened that his shouting was covered by the noise of the crowd as the home team had just scored. 'Anything they did hear, they'll pass off as Darren's hissy fit' Isaac thought between vicious kicks to Darren’s stomach. By now Darren was seconds away from passing out, and was pleading for mercy, but Isaac didn’t know the meaning of the word. As Darren coughed up another round of blood, Isaac said in a calm voice "You've caused me so much trouble, it's time you caused someone else trouble. The trouble of cleaning up, that is." He slit Darren's wrist and walked towards the exit. Before leaving, he turned around with a wicked smile and laughed "Have fun bleeding out.". Isaac loved the silence of the woods. It was just right for disposing a body. He entered the shed in which Randy was still tied up in and grabbed a jar of blood of one of the shelves. Isaac’s mood darkened as he thought about what he was going to do. No time for second guessing now, right? Four murders in just one night, it was a wonder the cops weren’t crawling over the neighbourhood like a bad rash already. If Isaac’s new….hobby was to continue in the way it had been so far, he would need outside help. He dipped his fingers into the jar, and drew a symbol he knew he had seen somewhere before, a pentagram. He dropped the heart dead centre in the pentagram and proceeded to stab it once down the middle. It didn’t have quite the effect that Isaac had hoped for, the heart just swelled and exploded after that., splattering droplets of blood all over Isaac. He suddenly felt woozy, and got a sharp pain in his head. When this stopped, Isaac became clear that another person was standing above him, watching. It was a boy, not much older than Isaac himself. He stood tall above Isaac and had a dark and threatening voice. Isaac could not make out any visual features of the mystery boy, but decided to just listen to what the boy had to say instead. “Good evening, Isaac. I must admit my original intentions were to come here and murder you, just like you did to those other kids. I’ve been watching you, you know. If you’re making a sacrifice to the devil, it has to be your own blood. In other words, your family” smiled the wicked character. Isaac stared down at the ground to ponder for a mere second, and when he looked back up, the boy was nowhere to be seen. Isaac knew what he had to do. Isaac took a deep breath, steeling himself for what lay ahead. He entered his home, and went straight upstairs to think through what he was about to do. “Tonight, at one” he thought, almost prep talking himself. First, I sneak in and take out Mum and Dad silently, Dennis is a heavy sleeper so tying him up will be no problem whatsoever. Holding a meat cleaver in one hand and his now signature blade in the other, Isaac crept up to his parents’ room, and listened out for snoring. It was clear that they were both in a slumber, and so Isaac proceeded through the door. The sheets were only just on the bed. Isaac’s parents were in each other’s arms, how cute. Isaac pulled up both weapons and simultaneously plunged the blades into his parent’s throats. Isaac scooped up plenty of blood in his jar, remembering the importance of it, he then strolled into his brother’s bedroom. Isaac tied up Dennis so he could neither talk nor see, but still breathe. After leaving the house with Dennis slung over his shoulder, Isaac locked the front door, just to anger whoever happened to notice the disappearance of him and his family. Isaac chuckled as he walked away from the scene, never to return again. Isaac returned to the scene where he attempted the first sacrifice, and moved even deeper into the woods. He found a tall, thick tree, and tied Dennis around the cool bark, using cable ties to restrain movement in his hands. Isaac painted the pentagram around the base of the tree, with the centre being the tree stump. After he had finished with his parents’ blood, he tossed the jar to the side. Chanting the same phrases as before, Isaac pulled out his knife, and slit his brother’s throat. Dennis let out a small wince as the blade pierced his skin, but was soon no more. Silence. It was as though time stood still. Isaac could not comprehend just how quiet the woods were, he liked it. Not long after the ritual had taken place, Isaac saw a flash, and lightning struck the tree. Blinded for a mere second, Isaac felt a sharp pain on the left side of his chest. He lifted up his shirt, and to his surprise, there, on his chest, was the mark of the devil. Three sixes, all in contact with each other and all rotating clockwise around one point in the middle. This was the mark, and whoever wore this mark on their skin was associated with the devil and granted eternal life to wreak havoc on mortals. Authors note: Isaac is dangerous. He doesn’t kill people out of an unquenchable lust for bloodshed or any kind of diagnosable thing like that. He purely enjoys the thrill of the kill. He enjoys murder in all forms whether it is quick and clean or slow and gory. He will use blunt tools, sharp tools, heavy machinery or old wooden torture devices. He has written a list of the types of people he wants to kill. You won’t know if you’re on this list until he finds you. You won’t know it’s him until he reveals himself, for in this day and age – changing your appearance is simple. How do I know this, you might wonder? Let’s just say I know Isaac better than anyone  