Post by Emmit Kraus on Jan 7, 2018 21:48:29 GMT
“When you think of beauty, what comes to mind? Is it the look on the face of your beloved as they lay deep in slumber? Is it heaps and heaps of money, knowing that it’s theirs to waste their precious life with. Beauty, as the saying goes, rests in the eye of the beholder. Beauty appears to me in a different form than most others. I might even say no one alive shares my sight. Beauty to me isn't as materialistic as money. It isn't as cliche as a woman. Well. Not exactly.
“I find beauty in blood, escaping its imprisonment, leaking from its epidermal cell, flowing freely. Beauty is watching the life essence depleting slowly from one’s eyes, their fearful shrieks echoing in my ears like church bells on a Sunday morning. It’s giving Sebastian his meal for the day, as I can hear him yearning for more. Ladies and gentlemen, to put it bluntly. I find beauty only in death.
“That’s why it was so easy to find myself in my particular line of work. It gives me a certain kind of adrenaline rush. A killing high, if you will. I’m what one would call a junky, and like most, I can’t go too long without my fix. I wouldn’t be able to tell you my limit. I’m afraid I’ve never had to test it. I picked the perfect profession to… hone my craft, so-to-speak. I’m a contract killer. A hitman. And there’s always gonna be a time when a person wants someone dead… so much that they pay.
“So, I’ve accumulated a bit of wealth over the years. It’s allowed me to shed my impoverished roots, as well as escape from everyday society. I rarely come into contact with pedestrians, nowadays. Since NBW’s short little hiatus, I only really come into contact with non-contract civilians when my sister makes me come to one of her gatherings. It’s rather hellish, if I’m honest.. Acting as though I enjoy the company of hypocrites and imbeciles such as my mother. Pretending that I wouldn’t sooner sever their jugular than hold their hand. But I do it. Because there’s one person on this Earth that I’ll suffer through the insufferable for. Lena Kraus.
“Lena is my shred of humanity. She’s the one thing that keeps me sane. She’s the one person that-” Foster The People interrupts my speech, and I pat down feeling my phone in my front pocket. I pull it out, looking at the screen. “- she’s the one calling me! Aha! Hello?”
“Emmit, I need a favour.”
I could hear a mixture of urgency and excitement in her voice. It always scared me when she talked like this. Or asked me for favours. It normally meant she wants me to go out into civilization and… socialize. Not my forte, but I attempt to hide my fear in my response. “Yes?”
“I want you to come to this party with me. I think it would be good for you. You’re always so alone up there. It’s not healthy!
For whom? It’s safer for me here. I don’t like killing non-contracts. Personally, I find it much healthier here than in prison.
Ah, but I can hear it in her voice that she wants me there. Declining would hurt her. I’ve already done that once… I’d rather not do so again. I sigh, loudly, embellishing it for Lena’s amusement. “When and where?” I hear a headache-inducing shriek from the other end and she fills me in on the location. We hang up, and I sit in my chair, looking into the camera again. I’ve completely lost my train of thought.
It won’t be fun. I won’t enjoy this. But Lena wants me to go, so I’ll go.
Update: Even Lena regrets bringing me.
I’ve only been here for three hours, approximately, and I’ve already scared away half of the partygoers. Not even intentionally. I mean, I even dressed in common clothes! Jeans.. God I hate jeans. And a tee-shirt. “Dexter,” appropriately enough. I’m even wearing a hooded sweatshirt! I’m clueless as to what I have done.
Though, if I’m entirely honest, I find it rather amusing. They get uncomfortable being within ten feet of me. I find it humorous watching them shake, their beady eyes frequently glancing at me, even in the midst of conversation. In fact, I have one last experiment. I rise from my seat on the end of a couch and begin walking towards the restroom. And, as if I am Moses, they are my Red Sea. My second trial to be tested after I urinate. I open the door to the bathroom and step inside. I lift the seat of the toilet and do what i need.
“Hey! Who’s there?” I hear a feminine voice behind me, one that I hadn’t heard before. I put myself away and turn around to see a ginger woman standing in the bathtub, wearing nothing. She doesn’t appear to be concerned with covering herself. I assume it’s because she can tell I’m looking at her eyes and only her eyes. They are a baby blue colour that is brought out by the tears in her eyes. They’re those of Medusa. I mean, of course, that they have me frozen. “Uh. Can I help you?”
“Why are you crying?”
“That’s none of your damn business, you creep!” Her words are sharp and defensive. She sits down in the tub once more, bringing my attention for the first time to the bath water that filled it.
“Oh, ma’am, I most definitely had no desire to intrude on your personal space. I just happened to notice that you seem upset. Is there anything I could do to assist?” Her jaw drops and she attempts to cover herself. “Wait, no, no, no. That’s not how intended that to sound. I meant is there any way assist you with fixing the cause of your distress.”
This wording seems to lighten her mood. “Oh, well that’s kind of you. It’s nothing worth your time, though, sweetie. Believe me. It’s stupid.”
“All due respect, Ma’am, but I do believe I should be the judge of what is worth my time or not. And, by the fact that I have not yet exited the bathroom, I would believe that this is very much worth my time. Anything that could cause a- dare I say- gorgeous lady like yourself, such grief should be put down immediately.” She chuckles, and actually smiles.
“Well aren’t you just precious. Here, let me get some clothes on. Then we can talk.” She steps from the tub and drains it. She grabs a purple lingerie set from the sink counter, followed by a pair of faded blue jeans and a white tee-shirt. She puts them on and sits on the edge of the tub. “Well, here’s the deal. I’ve been seeing this guy, right?”
“It always begins with a male, does it not?”
She chuckles again. “Yea, I suppose it does. Well, anyhow, this guy and I, things got heated pretty quick. And I almost-”
“Quickly.”
“What?”
“Things got heated quickly.”
“You’re adorable, but shut up. As I was saying, I almost slept with him. We actually planned to tonight.” Her voice trails on, going nowhere. She seems to be lost in her thoughts.
“Why did you not?”
“Hmm?” Her attention focuses back on the real world. “Oh, right. Well, I got here. And immediately I noticed something wrong. People were pointing and whispering. Moreso than I’m used to. Finally, Lena Kraus came up to me and told me the truth. Apparently, Jesse- the guy I was seeing- decided to share a select few pictures of me with a few of his friends. These friends shared them with others. Now, everybody on this side of Cape May has seen me naked. Just fucking wonderful.”
I mull over this information for some time. I’m not good with consolation. I’m not often a sympathetic person, but this is different. “My apologies, darling. Before half an hour ago, I could have said I was not on that list. But, in a way, I saw on your own accord.”
“That’s.... Not necessarily helping,” she says, chuckling. “Besides. It’s over, it’s done, it’s dumb. I should’ve expected it. Jesse’s a fuckboy. I knew what I was getting into. What girl hasn’t fallen victim to the infamous Jesse Holmes? Heh…”
Jesse Holmes. I didn’t even have to ask. Splendid!
“I’m afraid I’m not the best comfort, but I can offer you an awfully awkward hug as a form of consolation.” She smiles and moves closer, and I put one hand on her shoulder and the other on her head. After a few seconds, she backs away.
“You weren’t wrong. That was pretty damn awkward.” She laughs again, and I actually find myself joining her. “I’m Emily, by the way. I figured I should know your name. You HAVE seen my tits.”
“Have I? I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention.” I chuckle a bit more. “My name is Emmit. I’m here with my sister. You met her earlier. Lena?”
“Oh, cool! I didn’t-”
There’s a banging on the bathroom door.
“Em, get out here. It’s time to go.” Emily freezes.
“That’s Jesse… Dammit… I have no other ride.”
My God, this is working out amazingly.
“Speak with Lena. She shall take you home.” I stand up and walk to the door. I stop and turn back. “Get my number from her.”
Then I walk out, coming face to face with Jesse Holmes.
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m nobody but your conscience, lad. You have committed a gruesomely heinous act. Karma is a series of unfortunate events.”
His small mind stands at work, and I swear I could see steam emitting from his ears. Finally, he recovers his thoughts. “You’re a freak.” He pushes past me and I grab his arm.
“The lady will not be leaving with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, lad. Is your brain too simple to comprehend English?”
“I beg your fucking pardon?” He appears to be getting angry. Perhaps my plan shall be carried out sooner than expected.
“Jesse, go home.” I hear a voice from behind me. It’s Lena. “You’re not wanted here. Don’t make me go get Kris.” Jesse huffs, but leaves. Lena turns to me. “Maybe it’s a good thing I brought you here in the first place. I’m proud of you. You made a friend.”
In the events of the past hour or so, I hadn’t stopped to realize that Lena’s right. I had actually made a friend. There’s another human being whom I can tolerate. But, in my defense, I’m not focused on my new friend. I’m focused on my new target.
Jesse Holmes.
After the event of the party, I arrive back at my manor. Stepping into my living room, I see my camera still set up in the living room. I check my watch. 9:54. I believe I have time to finish my video package.
I sit down in my armchair, right in front of the camera.
“Greetings, New Blood! There seems to be an influx of such in New Blood Wrestling. I suppose it’s appropriate, but still rather annoying. First impressions are everything, friends. And, from what I’m seeing on social media, you mates aren’t exactly stellar. It sickens me to think that Mr. Pryde let such filth into our sacred ring. Ah, but all shall be cleansed in short time. Purified, if it may come to that. These great people believe they are entitled. They believe they are, as some say, the ‘cream of the crop.’ Whatever that means.
“Mr. Pryde released the lineup for the first television episode of my beloved promotion. And I seem to be battling one of the worst of the bunch. One Mr. Matt Angel.
“If my research serves correct, Mr. Angel fancies himself a nomad. Intriguing. Now, tell me. Is this because you find little success in-ring? It’s quite a shame that Mr. Pryde pitted you against me at first, son. I’m afraid you in for quite a disappointment. You might soon enough realize that New Blood Wrestling is not your home either. I would suggest crawling back to the coulrophobic nightmare known as the Extreme Wrestling Corporation. It may very well be what you’re good at. You don’t have what it takes to survive in these waters, lad. When I say ‘new blood,’ in most cases, I mean it figuratively. But I’m afraid you’re going to be the literal new blood spilled in the waters, and that water brings sharks.”
I slyly smile.
“I don’t particularly enjoy those that are full of themselves, so-to-speak. Immediately, Mr. Holmes comes to mind. Take your pick as to which of the known three. It all applies. But, Mr. Angel, you fall into the very same category. You believe yourself to be able to show people “what they’re missing,” but what I’ve noticed I’m missing by watching your matches is my free time. You have little to no talent, and you’re quite weak in comparison to the other UCI alumni. I believe this to be the reason that Mr. Pryde threw you to the wolf. He was already exhausted with your conceited demeanor. He wanted to relieve you of that miserable lifestyle. Well, Mr. Pryde, I humbly take the job with a smile.
“But this match is to be contested under first blood rules. Some may say this will be easy for me. I have Sebastian. But i’m afraid that I made an agreement with Mr. Pryde a long time ago that I would no longer use my baby boy in these matches. Other hardcore matches are free game. So, I’ll have to get creative with Matthew. Creativity.... This shall be fun.”
I finish with a smile.
“I find beauty in blood, escaping its imprisonment, leaking from its epidermal cell, flowing freely. Beauty is watching the life essence depleting slowly from one’s eyes, their fearful shrieks echoing in my ears like church bells on a Sunday morning. It’s giving Sebastian his meal for the day, as I can hear him yearning for more. Ladies and gentlemen, to put it bluntly. I find beauty only in death.
“That’s why it was so easy to find myself in my particular line of work. It gives me a certain kind of adrenaline rush. A killing high, if you will. I’m what one would call a junky, and like most, I can’t go too long without my fix. I wouldn’t be able to tell you my limit. I’m afraid I’ve never had to test it. I picked the perfect profession to… hone my craft, so-to-speak. I’m a contract killer. A hitman. And there’s always gonna be a time when a person wants someone dead… so much that they pay.
“So, I’ve accumulated a bit of wealth over the years. It’s allowed me to shed my impoverished roots, as well as escape from everyday society. I rarely come into contact with pedestrians, nowadays. Since NBW’s short little hiatus, I only really come into contact with non-contract civilians when my sister makes me come to one of her gatherings. It’s rather hellish, if I’m honest.. Acting as though I enjoy the company of hypocrites and imbeciles such as my mother. Pretending that I wouldn’t sooner sever their jugular than hold their hand. But I do it. Because there’s one person on this Earth that I’ll suffer through the insufferable for. Lena Kraus.
“Lena is my shred of humanity. She’s the one thing that keeps me sane. She’s the one person that-” Foster The People interrupts my speech, and I pat down feeling my phone in my front pocket. I pull it out, looking at the screen. “- she’s the one calling me! Aha! Hello?”
“Emmit, I need a favour.”
I could hear a mixture of urgency and excitement in her voice. It always scared me when she talked like this. Or asked me for favours. It normally meant she wants me to go out into civilization and… socialize. Not my forte, but I attempt to hide my fear in my response. “Yes?”
“I want you to come to this party with me. I think it would be good for you. You’re always so alone up there. It’s not healthy!
For whom? It’s safer for me here. I don’t like killing non-contracts. Personally, I find it much healthier here than in prison.
Ah, but I can hear it in her voice that she wants me there. Declining would hurt her. I’ve already done that once… I’d rather not do so again. I sigh, loudly, embellishing it for Lena’s amusement. “When and where?” I hear a headache-inducing shriek from the other end and she fills me in on the location. We hang up, and I sit in my chair, looking into the camera again. I’ve completely lost my train of thought.
It won’t be fun. I won’t enjoy this. But Lena wants me to go, so I’ll go.
Update: Even Lena regrets bringing me.
I’ve only been here for three hours, approximately, and I’ve already scared away half of the partygoers. Not even intentionally. I mean, I even dressed in common clothes! Jeans.. God I hate jeans. And a tee-shirt. “Dexter,” appropriately enough. I’m even wearing a hooded sweatshirt! I’m clueless as to what I have done.
Though, if I’m entirely honest, I find it rather amusing. They get uncomfortable being within ten feet of me. I find it humorous watching them shake, their beady eyes frequently glancing at me, even in the midst of conversation. In fact, I have one last experiment. I rise from my seat on the end of a couch and begin walking towards the restroom. And, as if I am Moses, they are my Red Sea. My second trial to be tested after I urinate. I open the door to the bathroom and step inside. I lift the seat of the toilet and do what i need.
“Hey! Who’s there?” I hear a feminine voice behind me, one that I hadn’t heard before. I put myself away and turn around to see a ginger woman standing in the bathtub, wearing nothing. She doesn’t appear to be concerned with covering herself. I assume it’s because she can tell I’m looking at her eyes and only her eyes. They are a baby blue colour that is brought out by the tears in her eyes. They’re those of Medusa. I mean, of course, that they have me frozen. “Uh. Can I help you?”
“Why are you crying?”
“That’s none of your damn business, you creep!” Her words are sharp and defensive. She sits down in the tub once more, bringing my attention for the first time to the bath water that filled it.
“Oh, ma’am, I most definitely had no desire to intrude on your personal space. I just happened to notice that you seem upset. Is there anything I could do to assist?” Her jaw drops and she attempts to cover herself. “Wait, no, no, no. That’s not how intended that to sound. I meant is there any way assist you with fixing the cause of your distress.”
This wording seems to lighten her mood. “Oh, well that’s kind of you. It’s nothing worth your time, though, sweetie. Believe me. It’s stupid.”
“All due respect, Ma’am, but I do believe I should be the judge of what is worth my time or not. And, by the fact that I have not yet exited the bathroom, I would believe that this is very much worth my time. Anything that could cause a- dare I say- gorgeous lady like yourself, such grief should be put down immediately.” She chuckles, and actually smiles.
“Well aren’t you just precious. Here, let me get some clothes on. Then we can talk.” She steps from the tub and drains it. She grabs a purple lingerie set from the sink counter, followed by a pair of faded blue jeans and a white tee-shirt. She puts them on and sits on the edge of the tub. “Well, here’s the deal. I’ve been seeing this guy, right?”
“It always begins with a male, does it not?”
She chuckles again. “Yea, I suppose it does. Well, anyhow, this guy and I, things got heated pretty quick. And I almost-”
“Quickly.”
“What?”
“Things got heated quickly.”
“You’re adorable, but shut up. As I was saying, I almost slept with him. We actually planned to tonight.” Her voice trails on, going nowhere. She seems to be lost in her thoughts.
“Why did you not?”
“Hmm?” Her attention focuses back on the real world. “Oh, right. Well, I got here. And immediately I noticed something wrong. People were pointing and whispering. Moreso than I’m used to. Finally, Lena Kraus came up to me and told me the truth. Apparently, Jesse- the guy I was seeing- decided to share a select few pictures of me with a few of his friends. These friends shared them with others. Now, everybody on this side of Cape May has seen me naked. Just fucking wonderful.”
I mull over this information for some time. I’m not good with consolation. I’m not often a sympathetic person, but this is different. “My apologies, darling. Before half an hour ago, I could have said I was not on that list. But, in a way, I saw on your own accord.”
“That’s.... Not necessarily helping,” she says, chuckling. “Besides. It’s over, it’s done, it’s dumb. I should’ve expected it. Jesse’s a fuckboy. I knew what I was getting into. What girl hasn’t fallen victim to the infamous Jesse Holmes? Heh…”
Jesse Holmes. I didn’t even have to ask. Splendid!
“I’m afraid I’m not the best comfort, but I can offer you an awfully awkward hug as a form of consolation.” She smiles and moves closer, and I put one hand on her shoulder and the other on her head. After a few seconds, she backs away.
“You weren’t wrong. That was pretty damn awkward.” She laughs again, and I actually find myself joining her. “I’m Emily, by the way. I figured I should know your name. You HAVE seen my tits.”
“Have I? I’m afraid I wasn’t paying attention.” I chuckle a bit more. “My name is Emmit. I’m here with my sister. You met her earlier. Lena?”
“Oh, cool! I didn’t-”
There’s a banging on the bathroom door.
“Em, get out here. It’s time to go.” Emily freezes.
“That’s Jesse… Dammit… I have no other ride.”
My God, this is working out amazingly.
“Speak with Lena. She shall take you home.” I stand up and walk to the door. I stop and turn back. “Get my number from her.”
Then I walk out, coming face to face with Jesse Holmes.
“Who the hell are you?”
“I’m nobody but your conscience, lad. You have committed a gruesomely heinous act. Karma is a series of unfortunate events.”
His small mind stands at work, and I swear I could see steam emitting from his ears. Finally, he recovers his thoughts. “You’re a freak.” He pushes past me and I grab his arm.
“The lady will not be leaving with you.”
“Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry, lad. Is your brain too simple to comprehend English?”
“I beg your fucking pardon?” He appears to be getting angry. Perhaps my plan shall be carried out sooner than expected.
“Jesse, go home.” I hear a voice from behind me. It’s Lena. “You’re not wanted here. Don’t make me go get Kris.” Jesse huffs, but leaves. Lena turns to me. “Maybe it’s a good thing I brought you here in the first place. I’m proud of you. You made a friend.”
In the events of the past hour or so, I hadn’t stopped to realize that Lena’s right. I had actually made a friend. There’s another human being whom I can tolerate. But, in my defense, I’m not focused on my new friend. I’m focused on my new target.
Jesse Holmes.
After the event of the party, I arrive back at my manor. Stepping into my living room, I see my camera still set up in the living room. I check my watch. 9:54. I believe I have time to finish my video package.
I sit down in my armchair, right in front of the camera.
“Greetings, New Blood! There seems to be an influx of such in New Blood Wrestling. I suppose it’s appropriate, but still rather annoying. First impressions are everything, friends. And, from what I’m seeing on social media, you mates aren’t exactly stellar. It sickens me to think that Mr. Pryde let such filth into our sacred ring. Ah, but all shall be cleansed in short time. Purified, if it may come to that. These great people believe they are entitled. They believe they are, as some say, the ‘cream of the crop.’ Whatever that means.
“Mr. Pryde released the lineup for the first television episode of my beloved promotion. And I seem to be battling one of the worst of the bunch. One Mr. Matt Angel.
“If my research serves correct, Mr. Angel fancies himself a nomad. Intriguing. Now, tell me. Is this because you find little success in-ring? It’s quite a shame that Mr. Pryde pitted you against me at first, son. I’m afraid you in for quite a disappointment. You might soon enough realize that New Blood Wrestling is not your home either. I would suggest crawling back to the coulrophobic nightmare known as the Extreme Wrestling Corporation. It may very well be what you’re good at. You don’t have what it takes to survive in these waters, lad. When I say ‘new blood,’ in most cases, I mean it figuratively. But I’m afraid you’re going to be the literal new blood spilled in the waters, and that water brings sharks.”
I slyly smile.
“I don’t particularly enjoy those that are full of themselves, so-to-speak. Immediately, Mr. Holmes comes to mind. Take your pick as to which of the known three. It all applies. But, Mr. Angel, you fall into the very same category. You believe yourself to be able to show people “what they’re missing,” but what I’ve noticed I’m missing by watching your matches is my free time. You have little to no talent, and you’re quite weak in comparison to the other UCI alumni. I believe this to be the reason that Mr. Pryde threw you to the wolf. He was already exhausted with your conceited demeanor. He wanted to relieve you of that miserable lifestyle. Well, Mr. Pryde, I humbly take the job with a smile.
“But this match is to be contested under first blood rules. Some may say this will be easy for me. I have Sebastian. But i’m afraid that I made an agreement with Mr. Pryde a long time ago that I would no longer use my baby boy in these matches. Other hardcore matches are free game. So, I’ll have to get creative with Matthew. Creativity.... This shall be fun.”
I finish with a smile.
-To be continued.-