So. You may ask why I am telling you all this. Some kind of last confession? Or maybe I just like to brag about deeds. No. Nothing as simple as that. That would be just too easy wouldn't it. Do I sound like someone that takes easy routes? No. I didn't think so. No. You see. It's play time now. I was just telling you all this to taste your fear. It certainly tastes good. You should be proud of how good you actually taste.
You think buying this book was some kind of act of free will? You think you read the little blurb and thought it sounded good? No. I'm sorry to break your illusion. But I told you to buy it. It's actually just some blank pages with a fancy cover. You haven't been reading at all! You have been listening. Listening to me bring out the fear and dread in you. I have sipped and I have tasted. And now I want more.
I saw you the other day, and I don't know why, but I took a shine to you. You looked like you would taste good, and I needed to find out. You know that shadow you sometimes get in the corner of your eye. And you turn to see what it is, to only find out you're alone? You're not alone. That's me. Just a tiny glimpse of me. Then you choose not to see my true form, and go about your business as usual.
See. I could just leave you alone right now. Walk away. But I don't want to. You're now thinking about God. And how he could save you. It doesn't work like that. You can't turn faith on like that. Off certainly. But not on. I'm afraid you're mine now. You are my mouse and I am the fucking cat. You know the knife in your cutlery drawer? The only one I have seen you use. It has a black handle. Short blade, but very sharp. Go and get it. All this story telling has released a hunger in me, and I need to fucking feed, cunt!
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