He wiped a dribble of blood from his smiling mouth. His heavy breaths were translated to clouds in the cold still air. This man had done nothing to him. This man was of no concern of his until they crossed paths. But for this moment, the fetish of the action drew him closer to this man than anyone else in the world. Their discourse, violent, one sided, and undeserving gave him pleasure in the greatest sense; a pleasure incomparable with the traditional idea of of bliss. It was sex, carnage, curiosity, and an unnamed itch for destruction of which many humor in their heads, deterred only by trepidation of savage immorality and retribution. He didn't hate the man; hell, he didn't give a fuck about him by any regard. He was apart of this man's life story now and that fueled his deprave hunger.
"Please!!", the old man pleaded, his already swollen face still pressed against the sidewalk, "I have no money. I don't have a home! I don't know who you are and I don't have anything!! I'm telling you!!"
He crouched to the man's level, prompting the man to flinch and avert his eyes. He grabbed the man' face, commanding his attention.
.
"I don't want anything from you. I just want to taste all the evils this world has to offer." With that, he stood back up and, drawing his leg to his chest, let his weight complete the transaction.
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