MicroHorror

Crimson droplets of blood pooled on the edge of his nose and slowly dripped into the palm of his cupped hand. The sight of his own blood had always intrigued him, made him realize that he was in fact mortal, a man and not a machine or a reflection. He tilted his head back and the blood trickled down his throat. The taste of blood always reminded him of a medium rare steak, which in turn reminded him of his father’s barbecue.

He turned and looked at the three girls staring at him. He must have looked the part, the monster of destruction. He stumbled to his feet and held his palm out so that they could see it. The tallest of them began to cry. He had been fooled by tears before. The first to cry was often the most desperate to live, the most dangerous. She would have to be first. He licked the blood off his hand. “You’ll have to do better than that!” He bent over and picked up the book he had been hit with. He flipped it open. “It is said that any book, when opened to a random page, will tell you everything you need to know at that moment.” He looked at the page and read aloud. “Add a tablespoon of chutney, and place the salmon in the oven.” He closed the book and casually tossed it over his shoulder. “Sounds like it is telling me to cook your little asses and eat you.”

The tall girl ran at him and kicked at his testicles. He closed his knees in time to block the impact. He grabbed the little bitch by the hair and spun her around until he held her back tight against his chest. He held her sweaty cheeks with his fingers. The other girls began to beg him to let her go. He masterfully shot his arm out straight in front of him. It was all in the wrist. The girl’s neck snapped and her body went limp in his arms. He laid her down with great care. These were beautiful young girls. He wanted them preserved as best as possible. The other girls were now beyond the screaming stage. He pulled the scissors from his back pocket and raised them to his lips. He kissed each blade softly. This is where things got messy.