robyngraves (robyngraves) wrote in undertherainbow, @ 2009-01-27 08:26:00 |
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Current mood: | tired |
I hate sleeping, if only for the dreams. I was in the main room at Mordhaus, and all the masters were there. Somehow, a crazed fan got in and tried to kill one of them. I pinned him down, tied him up. He started babbling something psychotic. I looked in his eyes and recognized... something, in them. He wasn't going to stop until he'd killed someone. So I slit his throat. He started to bleed but it wasn't enough, and my daggers went in his thighs and my razors split his skin and he bled and bled but it wasn't enough. He wouldn't die. So I took the smallest razor I had and, working at the cut I'd already made, started to saw his head off. But it was a fake, not even his real head. And the blood kept coming, but now some of it was stage blood, and I was angry because I'd have to clean up after this bastard and he wouldn't fucking die.
Then all my masters left, nonchalant as can be, and I was alone with this freak that I couldn't kill.
Take a shot at interpreting that if you want. Though, I'm pretty sure I already know.
...Last week was certainly dream-like. A fuzzy, grainy dream of a hideous mirror into the past. I never want to see or be that again.