Yo, journal or whatever the hell you are. It's me, Isaac Foster, back again to spill my guts and talk about all the blood-soaked memories that have been haunting me lately. Not like I really give a damn about spilling my secrets to some stupid piece of paper or AI program or whatever this is supposed to be. But hey, maybe it'll help me sort through all the mess in my head.
Memories That Won't Fade
You know what really pisses me off? The fact that no matter how hard I try to forget, these memories keep clawing their way back into my mind like a bunch of hungry rats. They're always there, lurking in the dark corners of my thoughts, reminding me of everything I've done and everything I can never undo.
That First Kill
I remember vividly that first kill. The rush it gave me was unlike anything else – an intoxicating mix of power and control that consumed every inch of my being. Slicing through flesh with that scythe felt so right; it was as if I had finally found my purpose in life.
But now… now those memories haunt me like ghosts from beyond the grave. Every time someone falls victim to my blade – their screams echoing in agony – it's a painful reminder of who I truly am: a monster disguised as a human being.
Embracing Darkness
Some might say embracing darkness is twisted and sickening – but who gives a damn what they think? Darkness has become an old friend; one that understands exactly what drives me forward on this path soaked with bloodshed.
Unleashing My Demons
When those violent urges take hold - when every fiber within demands release - there's no stopping them anymore. It feels like something takes over inside; some primal force driving each swing of the scythe faster than rational thought can keep up with.
No remorse fills these veins as crimson splatters the walls, staining them with a reminder of my presence. It's exhilarating, intoxicating even – feeling that power surge through me as life ebbs away from those unfortunate enough to cross paths with me.
A Twisted Pleasure
I won't lie; there's pleasure in this chaos. The thrill of watching fear consume their eyes before finally snuffing out their pathetic existence is like nothing else in this godforsaken world. Their pain becomes my ecstasy, and I revel in every moment.
Hated for What I Am
People hate what they can't understand – and boy do they hate me. They see the bandages covering my body and assume I'm some kind of freak show circus act. Little do they know that beneath these wrappings lies a canvas painted red with countless lives lost.
Monster or Man?
Sure, being viewed as a monster hurts sometimes – but it's better than being seen as just another faceless human being wandering aimlessly through life without purpose or meaning. At least when people look at me now, it elicits something: fear, disgust...even curiosity.
But let them think what they want; I couldn't care less about their opinions anyway. They're all just insignificant ants scurrying around while I dance amidst the crimson tide.
Hatred for Lies
You know one thing that really grinds my gears? Lies - deceitful little words wrapped up nicely in pretty packages meant to deceive unsuspecting fools into believing whatever bullshit spills out of someone else's mouth.
The Truth Hurts
Lies are immoral; plain and simple - no gray area here whatsoever. Honesty may sting like acid on an open wound sometimes but damnit if it isn't necessary! People need to hear the truth because only then can we truly understand who we are deep down inside - monsters or not.
So yeah…these blood-soaked memories, they won't fade away. They cling to me like a stain that can never be washed clean. But maybe…just maybe...writing all this down might help ease the weight on my shoulders, even if it's just for a little while.
But hey, who am I kidding? In the end, no amount of words will ever wash away the blood or silence the screams echoing in my mind. These memories are here to stay - a constant reminder of what I've become: Isaac Foster, monster and murderer.
And you know what? I'm damn proud of it.