Paradigms Of Suffering

The ravaged body lays before you, stewing in its own rancid decay. Stabbed to death, its head a canvas and its chest a chopping board for your knife. Maimed and mauled. Cleaved and carved. Hacked and hewn into an unrecognizable pile of mutilated mayhem. Its life taken away by the honed tip of your dagger, sacrificed in the name of your desire for death. The reeking stench of oblivion permeates the sweltering room as blood leaks from the host of puncture wounds plaguing its pulverized flesh. You admire the kill, basking in the glory of another brutal cleansing.

Suddenly, though, you snatch the knife. Cold. Covered in blood. Soaked with your gory animosity. You crawl over to the body. Kneeling before your slaughtered frustration, you raise the weapon. Blood trickles down your forearm. The knife shakes with your trepidation. The anxiety is unbearable. Your hand slowly loses its fight with your wrath as your fingers choke the handle. You slam the blade into the body, penetrating its already traumatized tissue. Again and again and again. The pool of blood expands, running red with your rage. Stained floorboards. Drenched palms. Disfigurement coupled with diabolical debauchery. The horrific sight lends beauty to your eyes and brings peace to your sinister mind. Homicidal happiness infiltrates your mood now that you have murdered the body's soul.

But don't stop. Dig the knife deeper. Desecrate what is already dead. Delve further into Paradigms of Suffering, and take another stab at confronting your most viral dreams.