Horror d’oeuvres

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Can I tempt you to whet your appetite with a little something from the Horror d’oeuvres platter?  Sweet and sticky perhaps, or would you prefer something raw and wriggling to tickle the taste buds as it slips across the lips? Whatever your preference, feel free to dip into our distasteful little mouthfuls. Nothing you fancy at the moment?  No worries, the selection platter is updated every week so be sure to call back and check out our  newest additions.

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I can take or leave the physical side of life. I prefer the cerebral approach to getting what I want. Get into someone’s grey cells and a thousand agonies are at your fingertips.

I wonder what the man standing on the train tracks saw as the train approached in the darkness. Suicide or salvation?

Dementia makes strangers out of loved ones and threats of those who care. Its happening everyday, everywhere.  Imagine being a stranger in your own head and driven to desperate confused despair.

The young biker they found face down in the river used to race round the village all hours of the night. Hell of a row I can tell you. I don’t know how he ended up in the river. Or who tied him to his motorbike and pushed them both in. I’m just glad of a good nights sleep again.

I am old now.I think that’s what bothers me most about that, is getting my story straight before I die. How am I going to lie my way into heaven. When the big guy with the wings knows i’m a grade A depraved arsehole.

The local park is covered in a blanket of fallen autumn leaves. They rustle when the children run through them. Give them another month and they’ll decompose into a soft mush that deadens the sound of footsteps walking behind you. Until the footsteps are right behind you. Then you don’t hear the footsteps walking away as you lay unconscious amongst the leaves.

Christmas is a dreadful time to be lonely and alone. Not that I’m bothered. I bide my time on line, and sure enough. The right one comes along every year. So desperate for affection their guard slips and bingo. Another festive romance ends in agonised, blood soaked tears.

Black Friday is upon us again. Great. I am in the market for a set of surgical tools and a mortuary table. Come on Amazon. Don’t let me down.

Bloody cold this morning. No bad thing mind. Keep what’s hidden under the tarpaulin nice and cool. No suspicious smells, or flies.  Dead give away when someone’s gone missing, and you have a writhing mass of wildlife tearing something rotten apart in your back garden.

Some marry for love. My wife and I married for mutual alibi’s. My husband was home with me all night officer. My wife and I were enjoying dinner together officer. A young man tortured to death you say. How shocking.

Losing my job at the slaughterhouse was a real blow. It was really me you know. Floated my boat big time surrounded by fear and death. Oh well. Back to torturing stray dogs in my shed I suppose.

After a five hour operation to reattach my severed penis. I am mindful of the old saying. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.”

Friend of mine is big on gaming. Every waking hour, guns blazing away in a fantasy world of war and destruction. Not for me. I am a hands on sort of guy who likes his kills fresh and wriggling.

Years ago I used to be a patient in the old mental hospital.  Been empty for years, yet the screams and shouts of the tormented still filled every room. Even when the walls collapsed and the roof fell in I could still hear screaming. Not sure if it was inside the hospital or inside my head.

A lie is the stale smell of deceit on a persons breath. The halitosis of truth corrupted by the evil of the liar. A knife in the back of honesty.

A constant diet of indifference will break anyone’s spirit. Nothings ever good enough. Nothings ever bad enough. After a while you stop trying. Nothing gets you nothing so you become nothing.

I found a packet of Condoms and my husband’s boxer shorts, in the glove box of my best friends car. I didn’t make a scene, or lose my temper and scream. I simply punched her in the face, and stabbed him when I got home.

Some people love their gadgets, their toys, their mobile phones. I just love skinning people, so I can play games with their bones.

I never worry about the consequences of my actions. I don’t care. Means nothing to me the suffering of other’s. I just do as I please and to hell with you all. No good looking to me for remorse. Could be a small town in Mexico as far as I’m concerned.

 

 

The witch I mugged cursed me to suffer. I laughed in her face and stole her money and mobile phone. I know she has a new phone now. I can’t stop sending her video clips of me cutting my own fingers off. Every night the bloody stumps re-grow. Ready for me to cut them off again in the morning.

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