“‘[W]hen all else fails, kill it with fire.”
–Larry Correia
I was visiting a few friends in California when one of the massive fires broke out. Instead of cowering and worrying, we descended on the city like dark angels…almost like sisters of the flames. It was the most gorgeous sights that I had ever seen. Our first adventure was together. We chose one of the houses on the lower side of town where the lower class lived. It was easy to spot our perfect target: it was a man in his 30s yelling at his little daughter (we assumed). The mother figure was angrily pulling clothes off the line, talking to herself and most likely complaining about her male companion.
The went inside the house and chaos erupted; yep, this was our natural selection of sorts. No one would think anything about them screaming, and no one would probably even miss them. We entered like angels from purgatory; we didn’t destroy the house because it already was in ruins. But, we did enjoy stabbing the grown-ups to their chairs; then, we bound them. We grabbed up the young ones; I can still remember the little girl’s face. Her eyes seemed to say that she had been waiting on me and wondered why I had taken so long. One of my friends took particular interest in the mother, whose belly sliced open like a nice, ripe melon. She didn’t have much time before the woman bled out; but, she was able to verbally and physically humiliate the woman.
Another friend and I wanted to pair the little girl and the male. There were other brats running around, but they were being taken care of; some were being beaten like dirty little objects, and others were being sexually assaulted like little whores. But, the girl…her name was Jasmine. He reached her little hand up toward my belt where my knife was. She waited for me to react; I handed it to her; she took it in her hands and straddled her bound father. She leaned down and whispered something in his ear. Then, without any hesitation, she stabbed him in the throat. She watched him gurgle his last breaths. I admired her; but, before I could do anything, my nearest accomplice scooped Jasmine up and slit her throat. I was a little sad, thinking my friend could have at least played with her a little more. She deserved that much. But, we set the house on fire and moved to the next one.
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