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Cain · (09-22-2014)

Last night was epic. It was as if I was watching myself drown and strangle that annoying girl. In fact, I would say that her kill was better than mine. But, you know, I was in a better mood than usual so I wasn't as brutal. Brutality...well, brutality is a friend of mine. I have been running mates with brutality for a long time. Example given; Tearing Sacrelidge limb from limb for insulting me. Yes. Insulting me. I said murder was an artform, and I meant that. He just killed a couple of people and had the audacity to claim brotherhood to me. See the difference? I hope so. Because alot of people would consider what I do wrong. *cough* LH Harrison *cough*. But what people like that do not understand is that this is me. This is my nature. My legacy. I leave a path of broken bodies in my wake because of what I am. A monster.

Some people once told me that I should give up being a monster. They said that I should "stray from supernatural". Again, you cannot fight your true nature. Birds don't stay on the ground. Fish don't jump out of the water. Female dogs don't lay on their backs and get fucked. It's all nature. Human nature would have men fear me. Because human nature is to fear death and I am walking death. But my opponents? They try to do the impossible. They once again try to fight against human nature in a futile attempt to prove the size of their balls. Pissing contests. My pissing contests are not about how far I can piss, but whom is the recipient of my golden stream. I piss on people like Aidan Collins and Luna Hightower, who choose to waste an opportunity. One is probably out getting fucked and the other is probably riding the cock. Your guess as to who is as good as mine.

So at the risk of rambling on, I leave you with this thought. Do not ever count me out. Because win or lose, I am always lurking. Always hiding in the shadows. And when you least expect it...I will jump out and you will cease to be.

"You're as stiff as my smoking barrel, you're as dead as the desert night; You're a notch and I'm a legend, twenty dollars will make you die."-Alice Cooper; Desperado.

"And you say his name is Alice Cooper? Dude! This is an awesome fucking song!"

Yes. Little Maria is still here. My seventeen year old goth vixen is sitting in the passenger seat of my two thousand fourteen metallic blue Mustang. Yes, I ride like that. Expensive suits. Beautiful (young) women. Gold. Stuff like that. And dead bodies. I watched the road, nodding in agreeance.

"Yes, indeed, a great song. I apologize for my silence, Maria. I just have alot on my mind."

"Oh, that's cool, man..." she reached into her purse...complete with little skulls with pink bows...and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She took one for herself and offered me one. "...want one?"

Wanna suck my cock? I digress. I simply nod, taking the cigarette between my lips. She pulls out her lighter and lights it for me, and I puff.

"You know what this means, right?"

I arch a brow.

"That I can't reach my lighter and you're always well prepared?"

She laughs...and swats my shoulder.

"No dummy, it means you owe me seven years of good sex!"

I almost choked. The teen girl? Well, she was actually smiling. The first time I had seen her smile since last night. But of course, I am not smiling, because my mind? Well, it's elsewhere. My mind is in the ring, at the Perth Arena. Facing off for something that I believe is rightfully mine. As I smoke my cigarette, I look down at the fuel gauge. Getting a little low.

"Gonna need gas soon."

Am I regretting this?

"...not much of a talker now, are you?"

"Not normally." I chuckle. "Not really my strong point. Trash talking? Eh, it's for kids on the playground. I mean, sure, the General Managers are like..."Oh Cain, you should do a trash talk promo.". But why? I'm not Peter Fuckin' Gilmour. I don't tell every person I see to suck my dick."

"My dad does. That's how he met my mom."

"Well, obviously, she doesn't swallow. Because here you are."

"Ew! No! That's just...ew! Just no!"

"What? Why? Your mom's probably sucked a few dicks in her lifetime."

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean I want to hear about it!"

"You brought it up."

"Nooooo, you're the one who said Peter Gilmour tells everyone to suck his dick!"

"IT'S TRUE!"

"Isn't he like wrestling an eight year old on the same card you're fighting for the number one contendership?"

"Yes.......I just hope he doesn't Michael Jackson the poor kid....."

Awkward silence. Too soon?

"That's not right, Cain."

"So it IS right that he tells everyone to suck his dick? Including children?"

"Well no, but I don't think poking fun at a dead man is gonna be looked upon with great pride by your bosses."

"Oh, and who the hell are you? My agent?"

She poked her chest out proudly, her fair dkinned seventeen year old tits nearly spilling out of her top.

"I sure as hell could be!"

Could be my sex toy, and I kill you afterwards. But I digress. We near the gas station and I pull in, pulling up to a pump.

"Oh my god! Can I have a Monster?!"

I smile. That actually sounds good.

"Of cou-"

"Oh! Oh! Oh! And how about some Slim Jims?!

Ohhhhh yeeeeeahhhh!

I nod and open my door.

"Certainly."

Hrmf. Teenagers. Always wanting something. But...it's whatever.

-To Be Continued-

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode ...but eh...it's whatever(Rp 4)
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