When you are a butcher girl like me, with a love for all things bloody, March is your favorite month. Why? Because it is American Red Cross Month. I have always considered myself a philanthropic psycho, so in this month of donating blood, I can give back to my community. Now, since the only flesh I ever consume is human flesh, I am anemic, so the Red Cross won’t take my blood. At first I was bummed about this, but then I discovered blood by proxy. I can donate other people’s blood. How fun is that? So during the month of March, if you have scorned or annoyed me, even hired me, be on high alert that I’m extra blood thirsty this month, as I am killing for charity.
First to donate blood for my personal blood drive this month were two of the devil’s spawn. The twin daughters of my former boss. In fact, he paid me to snuff out his two little brats. According to him, all they do is drain him of his money and patience. Fitting then that I would drain them of their blood. Some white trash whore duped him into knocking her up for his money. These sister cunts will do more good dead, than they ever would alive. You’d be surprised how many parents lack the paternal instinct, which is fine by me. Too many spoiled, germy, annoying, needy little humans running around anyway. As soon as I off a few rugrats, some trailer park whore just pushes out a few more nuggets she can’t support who will end up draining hard working Americans of their tax dollars. It’s a vicious cycle so, kill the products of trash, stop the cycle, donate their blood to good use: reduce, reuse, recycle.
Getting the brats to my place was simple. Told them I was daddy’s secretary and they saw dollar signs as they hopped into the back seat of my car. I convinced them I was a
babysitter of sorts and daddy gave us lots of play money. Well, gave me lots of play money. Slipped them a special cocktail in their Kool-Aid, waited for them to wake up in my bath tub, sliced open some arteries, and watched the blood drain from their little annoying bodies. I like to tie weights to their ankles so they can’t run. Then I sit on the toilet seat, and watch the blood drain from their bodies slowly. Makes me feel good that I am recycling blood. Giving it to folks who deserve it. Life is a privilege not an entitlement, so just because you were born into this word, does not mean you deserve to stay in it. You got to earn that right. And many people need their privileges revoked, which I am happy to assist with. Once I snuffed the little bitches out by exsanguination, I texted photos to my former boss. Sometimes a picture or a text is better than a call. Harder to trace, even harder to prove who sent what to whom, and a picture is worth a thousand words.
I’ve been slaughtering trash all month. Some for money, some for revenge, some just for fun, but every death attributed to my handiwork benefits not only the American Red Cross, but society as a whole. This world has too many worthless fucks in it. What they couldn’t do for their community in life, they can in death. So who do you know that should give a sizable donation to the American Red Cross?
I got another job last week and the job was so fucking easy to get away with. Their mom’s a drug addict totally out of her mind so setting her up to take the blame for what I did was as easy as tying the brats up. Their mom was out probably on an all night binge, so I had plenty of time which I didn’t even need but enjoyed. It’s nice to take it slow every now and then. I tied the girl’s hands to her ankles and laid her out spread eagle with her little pink pussy up in the air, easy to carve up like a turkey. I broke her legs like little wish bones and said a prayer, even though my fantasy was already coming true, taking the kitchen knife gliding it across my nipples until they’d get hard, painting my naked body with her blood. It was almost too easy. Then I just stuck one of her junkie-mom’s needles in the girls arm and I assume the cops just thought she went too hard on the smack because I never heard from her again.
