Dark fantasies swirl through my mind like a raging tempest. Images of carnage and butchery flash like lightning across the canvas of my imagination. The taste of blood lingers on my tongue, an intoxicating elixir that sets my body aflame with a perverse hunger.
I fantasize about a helpless victim, a delicate flower plucked from the garden of life. Her skin is alabaster, smooth, and unblemished. The curve of her neck beckons to my blade like a siren’s song.
I envision the first cut – a delicate nick just below her ear. A ruby droplet wells up, glistening in the low light. It rolls down her porcelain throat like a bead of dew on a morning bloom.
Slicing deeper now, the crimson rivulet becomes a burbling stream. Her creamy flesh parts like silk before my razor’s kiss. A scalpel glints in my hand, poised to flay the pearly shroud from her skeleton.
Piece by piece, I skin her alive, revealing the glistening musculature beneath. Strands of glistening viscera hang in tattered strips. Ropes of pulsing arteries throb in time with the slowing beat of her heart.
The metallic reek of blood soaks the air. It mingles with the feculent odor of her ruptured bowels, a noxious perfume. Her butchered carcass is heaped on the floor, a blood-slicked altar to the dark deities of my Deep dark fantasies.
Still, it isn’t enough. I crave more. More violence, more viscera, more violation. In my twisted reverie, I am insatiable – a ravenous demon gorging on the spilled entrails of the damned.


