Bloody phone sex seems perfect for a self-proclaimed gore whore. I grew up watching horror movies and gaining a strong affinity for bloody massacres. What can I say? I’m very visceral. I respond positively to the sight of blood. I love the feel of it. And I like the taste of it too.
Perhaps you could call me a vampire. I do love blood. Plus, I have the most fun after midnight. And summer is here so that means the bars become packed with college fuckers home for summer break. For the most part, I find the college boys and girls vapid and rabid. I don’t mean literally rabid.
But I think most people understand that college boys and girls are among the meanest folks around. Self-entitled mean girl behavior never gets rewarded. In fact, with me, it makes you a target. A target of my wrath. And I thought she might make a perfect snuff porn star.
As a Gore Whore I Love a Bloody Massacre
Last night I met a vapid and very rabid coed. I tried to blend in looking less Goth like and more normal. I sat at the bar, watching these bitches in action. And I took personal offense to this blonde prissy bitch who started body shaming other girls in the bar. She’s nothing more than a bully. And she needed to die.
So, I spiked her drink and acted like her Uber driver. I read rooms extremely well. So, I knew she did not come with anybody. That seemed part of the problem. She lacked a wolf pack. So, I acted like her Uber driver and took her to my kill shack in the woods. Although during Covid, I built an underground dungeon extension to my house with a tunnel that leads out into the middle of the woods. I like to use this shack in the woods when I’m going to make a bloody mess.
The drugs kicked in during the Uber ride, and she passed out in the back of my car. Woke up, stripped naked and tied to a wood table. This cabin my grandfather left me looks primitive like the cabin in the Evil Dead movies. When this girl woke up, she immediately started spewing her bullshit.
So, I told her she was about to meet her maker. I can’t tolerate bad behavior. Perhaps it’s safe to call me a vigilante. I just possess a very low threshold for what I will kill for. And body shaming some woman publicly in a bar earned her the right to die.
Some Folks Deserve to Die, So I Make it Happen
Normally, I would prolong the torture sex. That’s part of the fun for me not just the bloody mess that happens afterwards. But everything that leads up to that bloody massacre, I enjoy too. However, her shrill voice annoyed the fuck out of me. I put duct tape over her mouth, but I could still hear her. So, I ended up cutting the torture part short and plunging my knife right into her belly button. And I pulled that knife all the way up to her sternum and watched her die as I held her entrails in my hands. I like to cut a bitch because it creates a bloody mess.
I hosed off her DNA. But I know one of those medical black lights will catch the blood splatter. These floors may look clean, but they’re all saturated with the blood of my victims over the decades. But the only thing ever left behind is a little DNA. Because I dragged her body out to the woods and let nature serve as my accomplices. Some folks just deserve to die. And that bitch was one of them.
Venus
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