Portrait of a Pychopath
![Ritual-Abuse--Ghostcode.jpg](https://steemitimages.com/DQmPnsHhaepdNwEotEu6a68TBfe7pSj7gPLh646m6dhGTRv/Ritual-Abuse--Ghostcode.jpg)
"Hello, have you accepted sexual violence as your one true saviour?" Lilith
Waking up from the incubus nightmare about a criminal network of killers, I shower while thinking about their threats and the death threats I made against them. The memory of a Monica Bellucci beauty selling me on the sins to fuck and kill and fuck youth dead, as I recorded her, caught by her, lead to my death from that world to ours, awaked my senses to the entities that where programming me with their desires to live through my wrathful abandon and soul crushing demonic lust.
“He states he does not dream. He has no illusions, delusions, or hallucinations.”
Cigarette and coffee. I log online to Steemit and its third-party pages to check the damage control. How much did I drink last night? Did I tell a girl that I wanted to lick her clit and finger her moist cunt while impregnating her friend? How many did I curse?
“He knows the difference between right and wrong, but apparently does not feel it.”
Cigarette and energy drink. I wrap up another project in After Effects as I ignore the ghosts humping me. Uploaded as they unload. Fools insult others online, I insult them, and we cry together in lonely embrace.
“Only one of his victims made any protest and begged not to do this to her.”
Cigarettes and beer. I swear, hiccup and burp as I skim through my 1956 copy of ‘The Sexual Criminal’ resting on page 79. I think about getting the photos enlarged to hang on the wall as I stroke the pictures of traumatic hymen ruptures.
“He states that he had always wanted something tight and young.”
Hours pass, uploads, downloads, rewrites and remixes for perfection. The keyboard my piano. I key in the notes to become one with… Exit tab. I think about the dream I had last night. It was horrific how it ended in violence. It was an aspect of my personality engulfed by astral personalities that haunt me into reality. You have no idea how lucky you are to be free of this cursed life. They follow your soul.
Remorse of the Sadomasochist: “God please save the souls of these children, and forgive me for what I have done.”
Bedtime, I pray to collapse and surrender to the unknown at the very last moment, fighting to stay awake from Krueger fuck blades, leaving my body a rape victim for devils. Know that this is not an… I light two candles, jab my lefthand middle finger and smear the blood on the wax, counter-clockwise to curse their acts, and clockwise to bless mine. I climb into bed, as an incubus slithers beside me while the others wait their turn. I Dream of Jeannie as I go into paralytic shock and sleep paralysis. God turns the other cheek cursing psalms. I wonder if the neighbours can hear the screams.
![Sucubi.jpg](https://steemitimages.com/640x0/https://steemitimages.com/DQmZK8ETjjkKDAtwTnuXkR5yiiAKVgAHmebeo9Rw5ddKfg7/Sucubi.jpg)
Dark and sinful.
You are so creative for this. Nice.
Damn now how would i get sleep :P :P :P :P They follow your soul. hufff man u seriously made horrer one :P
No sleep for you sinner!
I did not get the horror feeling, cuz the eyes are beautiful.
Thanks, I tried to stay on task to tell the day narrated by a psychopath, but the horror is there if you read the story, about the demonic sins/acts of self-destruction and lust.