Re: Bloody Hell on Earth….

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Bloody Hell On Earth


It seems to always start with anger. Life in its entirety is filled with doors and relationships closed due to anger and depression. But what if that anger manifests into something more. What if you just can’t control what’s inside anymore. There is only so long you can be left alone with your own thoughts. Sooner or later, your mind separates the pain and weakness from the anger. From heroes like the hulk to books like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde we have always known that our dark sides can be produced to a state of being. But what if? What if we want to let it out? What if we dream of letting it out? What if we make our anger live and breathe. I now know I’m not crazy, I just gave up trying to hide the anger that wanted out so bad. that’s why I had to kill them. They don’t matter to me, any side of me, good or bad. They wont be missed, or at least, by me they won’t.

Sitting in a dark room in the middle of a run down house in the suburb of Dover Delaware there is a boy. With any other house you would find a normal family eating dinner or watching their favorite television show. But not at 10 Sterling Circle. In this house you find a massacre. The blood on the walls has dripped down to the floor and dried in the process. The smell would turn the stomach of any normal human. If the smell didn’t the sight surely would. But not this boy, sitting in his dark room.

Sitting at his desk he grabs a plastic bag from the floor with the contents of a hatchet, exacto blade, and Halloween make up. If he was laughing any louder it would surely wake the neighbors. He takes the blade and turns the desk light on, which then shines in the mirror on the top of the desk. He doesn’t even shutter at the light but looks at himself and laughs at the blood covered reflection. He stops his chuckling as the blade reaches the skin of his left cheek bone.

“Dear old mom and sis, I bet you never saw tonight coming. Well I’m sure you have one hell of a story to tell the devil huh?” he then presses the blade past the point of drawing blood. He kept digging hoping to go far enough to scar for life. Once the blade was deep enough he then began to carve the word “hate” below his left eye. Once he finished he then moved the blade to his right cheek and carved the word “everyone”.

Even though the pain was unbearable he couldn’t help but smile. His heart had already gone cold from years of pain and anger. The anger had emptied his mind and filled it with a monster. The monster that was living inside him now had taken over the body. There was only one goal for this monster and that is death and mutilation.

Once he finished, he didn’t even wipe the blood off his face. He grabs the black and white face paint and fills all the spaces on his face not covered in blood. The person staring back in the mirror should scare him, but it doesn’t. He no longer is Scott Jenkins, the person sitting there is new, dark, and has a horrible fate for the people in his life.

“Well dad I hope your happy. The weak me is dead, all that is left is Jinx. I bet you curse the day you conceived me. No one is safe and there’s no where to hide, at least not for you.” Behind Jinx, hog tied on the ground with bruises and blood hiding any visible notion of the man underneath lies his father. Jinx had killed his mother and sister before his father ever got home. When he did get home, Jinx was waiting, bloody, at the door to deliver a not-so-nice homecoming. Now the fate waiting for this man is worse than hell itself.

“Scott, you don’t want to do this.” Jinx’s father pleaded through the tears and sobs.

“Don’t call me that! Its jinx, don’t you recognize me? You made me, you piece of shit!”

Jinx stands up and moves to his closet. He pulls out his favorite pair of UFO parachute pants, a Twiztid t-shirt, and his Psychopathic hoodie. After he dresses and pulls on his fathers old military issue black combat boots Jinx goes back to the desk and pockets the blade and grips the hatchet.

“You know what Freddy Kruger says about pain dad? He says that the secret to pain is to just stop feeling it, and then you can use it.”

Now on the verge of a heart attack at the sight of the blood stained hatchet Jinx’s dad screams, “Scott that’s a damn movie you psycho! Please stop!”

Jinx turns around to face his father, laughing hysterically. He begins to walk over to the limp body on the floor that is his father. “Your right it is just a movie, but now its our reality. I guess telling you not to call me Scott didn’t work, to bad. Well, it will be over, I would say soon, but that would be a lie.”

Jinx knells down and begins to drag the dead weight that is his father and lifts him on the bed. After placing a dirty sock into his mouth as a gag, Jinx rolls him on his stomach. “Now dad don’t disappoint, I want to hear you scream even through the gag. I just don’t want to be interrupted while we bond.”

Jinx pulls his fathers shirt up and over his head exposing his back. He then places the hatchets cold bloody face on the lower back of his father. The cold made him tremble. Edging closer to a heart attack from the overbearing fear his father began to weep loudly, apologizing through every breathe hoping to live through the night.

Pulling the exacto blade from his pocket Jinx then drags the blade across his own thumb and begins to pour blood like a crimson fountain. Using his blood he paints the word “unworthy” on his fathers back as a template.

“Good the blade is still sharp. I would hate to waste a new one on your pathetic ass. Now dad, I want you to think back about ten years. Now, I know you cant talk, but if you don’t make sure I know your listening, then this will be far worse, so grunt to acknowledge me. Do you remember coming in my room after that **** of a mother of mine told you I was a bad boy and got a “D” in school. And do you remember telling me that I was no where NEAR as important as her as you beat me all over my room with your belt! Do you remember telling me that you loved her more, and then threatened as you often did, that if I didn’t make her feel better, you would throw me out a window! Do you remember that?”


“Good I’m glad because first, I want you to know, that was the day I stopped loving you. That was the day I began dreaming of the day I would kill you all. Now what you don’t know is that while you were playing hero in Iraq that same ****. That same STUPID ****ING ****! While fighting with me over a girlfriend of mine that she didn’t like, used that against me! Telling me I’m nothing to you! DID YOU KNOW THAT! I bet not huh!” Jinx’s father shook his head no.

Marlboro lights were jinx favorite cigarettes ironically, since that’s what his father smoked. He then pulled a pack out of his pocket and lit one. On the side of the stick he had written “everyone must die”. After a long drag and one of the thickest clouds of smoke he ever noticed he lightly slid the cherry along the spine of his father. Dear old dad’s pain made Jinx chuckle as he traced the template on dad’s back.

“Oh don’t be a big baby. This is just the start of your adventure. Now the moral of the story dear old dad.” he takes the lighter and begins to heat up the exacto blade. The blade slowly begins to turn a dull ruby red. “The supreme point of the conversation daddy, one you will not get to rectify of course, is that maybe you SHOULDN’T **** with someone, if you already ****ED up their head!”

The blade is now glowing brighter than the cherry of the cigarette. Jinx then hovers the blade over the starting point of the “U’ in Unworthy”. Jinx can’t help but smile from the enjoyment he gets as his fathers back tries to push further into the bed away from the heat. Then after a long drag from his smoke he grips the blade tight and drives it down hard and fast. He holds the blade still while his father screams and squirms in absolute pain and agony.

After what seemed like an eternity to dad, Jinx leaves the blade dug in his back and turns to the desk. Once he turns back towards the bed dad hears the sound of duct tape being unwrapped. “Since you cant seem to hold still I guess I’m going to have to help you.”

While dad continues to try and squirm his way to no where, obviously his flight instincts taking over, Jinx begins to tape him solid to the bed for less movement. “Now if you can’t move, this will be so much neater. Feel free to scream at will though.”

What happens next should never be told to children. It only plays to cliché that this act happened at night with one dim light and gagged screams as blood sprayed the walls and Jinx’s face. Jinx only got about half way through his project when his fathers body went limp, but he still didn’t stop. Laughing at the top of his lungs he finished his carving into his fathers back like a young boy with his first pumpkin on Halloween.

When he was finished he stepped back in amazement of his work, while laughing he wiped his face. The blood wasn’t what was bothering him, he was crying, tears of happiness, he soul was completely gone. “Well, I guess now its on to the next house.” Jinx begins packing all his weapons, Ipod, and cigarettes into his backpack.

Walking down the stairs jinx admires the massacre he left for the world to see. With each step he evaluates the blood and body parts that he scattered across the lower level of his house. Looking to his left at the wall that follows the stairs down, he lightly rubs his hand across as he descends, careful not to smear the blood that he acquired from both mother and sister. Through the entire decent of the staircase Jinx takes time to admire the blood of his mother and sister in the artistic from he composed to read, “Jenkins family portrait”.

As he took his final step and reached the bottom he stopped and took a deep sigh. Jinx took out another smoke and his Ipod. As he lit his cigarette he scrolled for his choice of serenade. “Ironic” by Alanis Moresette, not the picture that she imagined when composing the song but one that will forever be remembered. Taking a deep drag and turning up his headphones, jinx knells down next to the front door to be face to face with the corpses of his mother and sister.

Jinx left there torsos leaning back to back to keep them up since he dismembered all their limbs. Neither female truly resembles themselves after all the mutilation done to them. After duct taping them back to back on the floor attached at the mouths and elbows, he proceeded to give them their share of pain he felt just. Admiring his work he rubs their bald heads where he took a lighter and slowly burned all their hair off as stage one.

Kissing both on the forehead he stares deep into their eyes, which isn’t hard since he cut off their eyelids with his exacto blade. He couldn’t help but laugh while they cried since he had pleaded through tears for years and never got an ounce of remorse. Finally he looked at the two of them together and smirks. Taking a long drag, and taking no notion to avoid blowing the smoke towards the lifeless corpses he decides to take his hatred to a whole new level.

“I always said I would piss on your graves, but I don’t think I can attend the ceremonies. So, lets just get the formality out of the way.” jinx then pulls out his member without the slightest hesitance and performs the task to the tee. Never once while urinating on his own mother’s and sister’s faces did he feel remorse, only complete joy and pleasure. Moreover than the pleasure of carrying out the task was the pleasure he was getting from knowing the state in which that they will be found. At first, he was going to burn the damned house to the ground, but then he decided that he wanted them to look up from hell and be disgusted that their bodies were found in such a manner.

As jinx stands up and reaches for the knob on the door he hears the sound of sirens outside and knows that someone must have seen or heard his actions. His first instinct is to run out the back and make a break for it, but he doesn’t. He takes another drag and thinks about the night he just had. “Tonight was all I ever wanted, I think it should end here.” looking at his mother and sister he continues, “Besides, if I live then people will think you deserve justice. You don’t deserve justice, you deserve what you got and nothing more.”

“Come out of the house with your hands up!”

Jinx lights a new smoke and removes his Ipod and backpack. Holding only his cigarette in his left hand, and the exacto blade in his right, he breathes deep and opens the door slowly.

“Son drop to the ground now!”

“You want answers, you all do. But sooner or later you have to learn the cold hard truth.” jinx doesn’t leave the house but instead drags the blade up to his throat with one hand and takes another drag of his cigarette with the other.

“Put the knife down son, you need help. No one here is going to hurt you. What is your name, mine is Dave, Dave Thomas.”

“Dave, your right, no one out there is going to hurt me, but you missed my point. This is it, if I want this to mean anything, then it can’t be explainable.” With the last drag of the smoke also came the last drag of the bloody blade from one ear to the other. Without shedding so much as a tear jinx slit his own throat. Smiling as he hit the floor and the police surrounded him.

The last thought in the twisted mind that produced the gruesome scene at 10 sterling circle wasn’t fearful, peaceful, or even sadness. No, the last thought in this demented mind was anger, anger because he didn’t want to see his family in hell so soon. He never did like family reunions.