Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring...except for my parents.
See, our house is the sort that is extraordinarily conductive of noise. For every night as far as I can remember, I would here the noises coming from the second floor. There was once a time of great naive where I didn't know what the sounds were. Oh what a glorious time that was. But I must not dwell in the past. The fact is that now I know the sounds are those that are made when a passionate married couple express their love for each other - they are the sounds of sex - hot, vile, smelly, sweaty sex. Something has to be done, for this has gone on long enough.
I can hear the squeaky springs, the heavy breathing, the wet slapping, and the dirty whispers. It's too much. Thank you mother, for being so irresponsible as to buy me this deadly razor sharp katana for my last birthday. Now it shall be your's and father's demise.
Never before had I come near my parents room during their vile acts. As I approach the stairs the sounds increase in amplitude. Sword held straight out in front of me, I ascend the stairs. One of the steps creaks...*creak*...and the sounds stop. "Did you here something?" queries my father in his gruff man voice. My mother replies "It could be a burglar, go check it out please." She was always such a paranoid bitch. I hear my dad step out of bed...footsteps...towards the door that is only a few steps away from me. It opens, slowly, seeming to take a lifetime. There stands my father, moonlight shining through the window in his room and dancing on his glistening genitals. He looks down, sees the sword..."What?" It's too late for the bastard, I lunge forward and plunge the katana into his fat naked belly. He screams. There is a slurping sound and a spray of silhouette blood as I pull the blade out. I proceed to cut off his head. It arcs through the air and rolls down the stairs, bleeding and leaving spray art all across the walls.
Since my first strike my mother has been screaming. Now I enter her room, ready to silence her. I am about to kill this woman...but she is beautiful. She is likely the most attractive mother in town. Her voluptuous body shines in the silver light. "Mother...I'm sorry, but it's just too much. It seems that you two never stop making love, and I can't take it anymore. This house conducts sound like you wouldn't believe." I step towards her, keeping the sword tip at her throat. I run my hand across her thigh, to her genitals. I feel...and I lust. With the katana I cut off my clothing. I take my mothers hand in mine, still keeping the sword at her throat, and press it to my undeveloped teenage breasts...and move it down to my untainted virgin you-know-what...and push her fingers in. I touch her breasts, and kiss her, and taste her...run my hand through her hair and rub my genitals on her abs and breasts. When I've had my fill...and she is thoroughly terrified...shaking...fearful...I get off of her, and hold the sword. "Good-bye, my love." I whisper, and shove the blade between her legs until it comes out her chest.
Still naked. I descend the stairs. The pills. I take the pills. Everything clears up. I realize...it was my disease. What did I do.....more pills...death.
Gender:
Points: 890
Reviews: 11