MeganMiB:PlasticBag
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Just as she turns and opens the oven door, you grab the bag. Thrusting it downwards to open it, you place it over Vanessa's head and pull the handles together, tightening your grip on them. Her hands instinctively fly up to try to pull the bag from her head, but she instead throws the cake mix all over herself and scrapes uselessly at the bag with her oven mitted hands. Silly Vanessa, you don't need those if you're putting a pan ''in'' the oven. | Just as she turns and opens the oven door, you grab the bag. Thrusting it downwards to open it, you place it over Vanessa's head and pull the handles together, tightening your grip on them. Her hands instinctively fly up to try to pull the bag from her head, but she instead throws the cake mix all over herself and scrapes uselessly at the bag with her oven mitted hands. Silly Vanessa, you don't need those if you're putting a pan ''in'' the oven. | ||
| - | You suddenly feel angry. No, you feel ''pissed.'' It's not a sudden surge of anger, it's a surge of rage. Pure, primal rage. You tighten your grasp on the handles and tie them together as tight as is humanly possible. You grab the back of Vanessa's head and yank it back, placing it between the oven and the door. | + | You suddenly feel angry. No, you feel ''pissed.'' It's not a sudden surge of anger, it's a surge of rage. Pure, primal rage. You tighten your grasp on the handles and tie them together as tight as is humanly possible. You grab the back of Vanessa's head and yank it back, placing it between the oven and the door. She tries to pull her head out, but you're quicker. You smash the door shut as hard and fast as you can, and she screams loudly, the sound distorted by the bag. You slam the door shut again and are overcome by a burst of the hardest laughter you've ever felt. You wonder if this is how it feels to lose your sanity. Digressing, you pull her head out of the oven, surprised by the lack of blood in the bag. If anything, there's perhaps a red mist on the front, most likely blood that Vanessa coughed up after the first hit. Even more surprising is that she's still ''alive'' after this. She's weak, but still strong enough to try to fight back. She swipes at your face and you feel offended. How dare she try to harm you when you're trying to just save her the pain of going on without you? |
You drag her a short ways back and slam her head into the counter top, rattling the various things on it. You get a sort of sick, perverse glee from this, so you do it again. And again. And again, and again, and again, and again. You start to lose count of how many times you've slammed Vanessa's face into the counter, prompting you to do it one more time. By now, you're amazed the girl is even twitching, but sure enough, that's what she's doing. Just tiny little twitches. Twitches that still represent life, twitches that represent your failure to kill her. Perhaps she just needs another slam to the counter? Your hand slips mid-slam, however, causing her face to hit the edge of the counter instead. Falling to the floor, she finally stops twitching. Unsatisfied, you stomp on the bag. Inside, you can hear a soft whimper as your foot pounds down on Vanessa's temple a second time. The girl is ''still'' not dead! She makes no sound on the third stomp, nor does she on the fourth, but on the fifth you hear a crunching noise from inside the bag. On the sixth, it's louder and more distinct. The bag is absolutely blood soaked, and her skull collapses under your foot. Now you know that you're done. You're absolutely certain she's dead. One quick check of the pulse, just in case, confirms this. You're tempted to look inside the bag, but you suppress the urge. | You drag her a short ways back and slam her head into the counter top, rattling the various things on it. You get a sort of sick, perverse glee from this, so you do it again. And again. And again, and again, and again, and again. You start to lose count of how many times you've slammed Vanessa's face into the counter, prompting you to do it one more time. By now, you're amazed the girl is even twitching, but sure enough, that's what she's doing. Just tiny little twitches. Twitches that still represent life, twitches that represent your failure to kill her. Perhaps she just needs another slam to the counter? Your hand slips mid-slam, however, causing her face to hit the edge of the counter instead. Falling to the floor, she finally stops twitching. Unsatisfied, you stomp on the bag. Inside, you can hear a soft whimper as your foot pounds down on Vanessa's temple a second time. The girl is ''still'' not dead! She makes no sound on the third stomp, nor does she on the fourth, but on the fifth you hear a crunching noise from inside the bag. On the sixth, it's louder and more distinct. The bag is absolutely blood soaked, and her skull collapses under your foot. Now you know that you're done. You're absolutely certain she's dead. One quick check of the pulse, just in case, confirms this. You're tempted to look inside the bag, but you suppress the urge. | ||
Current revision as of 03:55, 4 April 2011
Just as she turns and opens the oven door, you grab the bag. Thrusting it downwards to open it, you place it over Vanessa's head and pull the handles together, tightening your grip on them. Her hands instinctively fly up to try to pull the bag from her head, but she instead throws the cake mix all over herself and scrapes uselessly at the bag with her oven mitted hands. Silly Vanessa, you don't need those if you're putting a pan in the oven.
You suddenly feel angry. No, you feel pissed. It's not a sudden surge of anger, it's a surge of rage. Pure, primal rage. You tighten your grasp on the handles and tie them together as tight as is humanly possible. You grab the back of Vanessa's head and yank it back, placing it between the oven and the door. She tries to pull her head out, but you're quicker. You smash the door shut as hard and fast as you can, and she screams loudly, the sound distorted by the bag. You slam the door shut again and are overcome by a burst of the hardest laughter you've ever felt. You wonder if this is how it feels to lose your sanity. Digressing, you pull her head out of the oven, surprised by the lack of blood in the bag. If anything, there's perhaps a red mist on the front, most likely blood that Vanessa coughed up after the first hit. Even more surprising is that she's still alive after this. She's weak, but still strong enough to try to fight back. She swipes at your face and you feel offended. How dare she try to harm you when you're trying to just save her the pain of going on without you?
You drag her a short ways back and slam her head into the counter top, rattling the various things on it. You get a sort of sick, perverse glee from this, so you do it again. And again. And again, and again, and again, and again. You start to lose count of how many times you've slammed Vanessa's face into the counter, prompting you to do it one more time. By now, you're amazed the girl is even twitching, but sure enough, that's what she's doing. Just tiny little twitches. Twitches that still represent life, twitches that represent your failure to kill her. Perhaps she just needs another slam to the counter? Your hand slips mid-slam, however, causing her face to hit the edge of the counter instead. Falling to the floor, she finally stops twitching. Unsatisfied, you stomp on the bag. Inside, you can hear a soft whimper as your foot pounds down on Vanessa's temple a second time. The girl is still not dead! She makes no sound on the third stomp, nor does she on the fourth, but on the fifth you hear a crunching noise from inside the bag. On the sixth, it's louder and more distinct. The bag is absolutely blood soaked, and her skull collapses under your foot. Now you know that you're done. You're absolutely certain she's dead. One quick check of the pulse, just in case, confirms this. You're tempted to look inside the bag, but you suppress the urge.
You look around, hoping nobody was able to see what you did. Of course, nobody did, but you still feel like you were being watched. The kitchen seems eerily silent now, save for the sound of "The Kill" as it ends. You take a deep breath, and recover your senses. Now you know what you have to do. The plan is halfway complete, nothing can stop you now. You've killed Vanessa, now you're all that's left. The last loose end.
