I'm back with "got to kill"
?Hello folks. I've been away from writing and painting after a very close friend had chosen to die. With that little something here I'll restart myself and get some work done again. It's quite overdue. >:3
"I've got to kill.... I've got to kill.... I've got to kill...."
That's the only thought Max could gather for a couple of hours now. Lonely and with little more than scraps of his ruined suit he was wandering through the dark forest for hours, throughout the entire night. He had nothing left, though it was an accident.
So far he had lived happily with his family in that little cabin in the woods, it was a great place for vacation. His two daughters enjoyed to play and run around it, his wife loved the calmness of nature. And he, well, it was all paying off just to see his family happy and content.
Now they were nothing more but burned crisps. An accident, just an accident. Judging from the sound and smell he gathered it must have been the gas container below the kitchen. Max barely felt the burns on his own skin. To his 'luck' he had stood away enough to survive the explosion barely harmed.
But now he had nothing left. His life has gone up in flames. His eyes stared at the small village down the into the valley before the forest. But his mind only saw those flames, the faces of his dearest, distorted in agony, melting into black corpses before the circle started anew. He could still feel the impact, the heat, his skin torched off his flesh. His lower left arm still seemed to glim and the missing part on the right side of his belly still smoked, though hours have passed.
Between the flames his mind realized the village and Max gazed over it. "kill.... burn..." Someone had to pay. Anybody. Everybody had to pay for his loss.
His steps lead him down, every footprint leaving behind a little patch of blackened grass and soil.
"I've got to kill... I've got to kill.... I've got to kill...."