Hey guys! :3 Well, look at that, I was the first person to make a blog on this wiki. :D Well, anyways, I got like, bored. And as I continued to be bored, my mind was refreshed with moments of gore. c: So yeah, I had this idea and that's it. :3 Basically, this blog will be about the past of my tribute, Dragon Lord. Comment if you like and helpful (Not, "SHIT! THIS IS SHIT!") critism, okay? Okay.
THE FOLLOWING IS SOMETHING DISTURBING, SOMETHING INCREDIBLY GORY. IF YOU FEEL SICK OR ANY OTHER KIND OF SYMPTOMS, WELL, GET THE HELL OFF THIS BLOG! THERE WILL ALSO BE SWEARING AND IF YOU DON'T LIKE, GTFO NOW!
Mom and dad are fighting again. They're both yelling at eachother, swearing. They don't even know I'm watching them. Well, it's not like they pay attention to me anyway.
"I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR HAND, HILDA!" My dad yells at my mom. He is clearly pissed off by mom as she won't stop nagging him about her broken nail. It's not that I can't blame him, though. Honestly, if I was dad, I'd probably be pissed as well.
Mom glares at dad as she ignores his previous comment. "WELL I FUCKING DO, WYVERN! SO GET YOUR FUCKING ASS OFF THE COUCH AND FIX THAT FUCKING LOOSE FLOOR BOARD!" She points to a floor board that looks a little loose. How she broke her nail from that piece of wood is beyond me.
If it was possible for dad to get even more pissed, then that must be his end-point. His face is red with rage and he looks like he is about to kill someone. Sure enough, he gives off the impression he will even more as he grabs a nearby knife on a table. He looks mad, no, he looks like he has gone insane.
Mom looks horrified. She tries to calm down dad but her attemps are futile, "Dear, dear. Put down the knife." Dad quickly flips her off as he yells at her, "I DON'T GIVE A SHIT!" He lashes at mom with the knife. She barely manages to dodge as the knife grazes her arm, blood seeping from the wound dad inflicted on her. She screams and dad just grits his teeth.
That's when I feel… Strange. Adrenaline took over me and my mind was filled with blood lust. I want to kill and I'll start with my parents. As they are too distracted to notice me, I quickly grab a butcher knife from the kitchen. Dad is sweating and he is still red. Mom is just moaning as she holds her injured side. Good, they're still distracted, I think in my head.
I run to my father from behind and when he finally notices me, it's too late. I stab him in the back with the knife. Blood oozed out of the crater in his back that I've created. He coughs up blood and I twist the knife, causing him even more pain. I plunge the knife deeper in to him, crimson fluid spluttered out of the wound. He yells but I bring the knife in even deeper as blood rolled down his back. He tries to grab me but I bite his hand until I see blood coming out from where I had bitten him. I slide the knife out of his back, the once shiny metal now stained with the blood of my father, as he falls down to the ground with a loud thud!
Surely, he must be dead as he makes no sound and he isn't making any signs of breath. I look at my mother who witnessed the scene and her eyes show the complete the process of horror. She starts walking backwards but then her walking turns into a frantic run of distress. "HELP!" She cried, "HELP!" Wait, she's calling for help? I just can't allow that.
I throw my knife and it hits the same spot where dad had grazed her with his knife. She screeches as she holds her side yet once again. Her hands are slowly being coated by her blood and I'm feeling even more hungry for blood.
Her running turns into a desperate limp before she trips and falls alltogether. Opportunity presents itself, I think in my head. I smile wickedly as I approach my mother. I walk to her slowly and casually, as if this is a daily scene.
Tears begin running down her cheeks like waterfalls. I grab my knife, craving to see more blood stained on the blade. "Dragon, honey! Plea- Please stop!" She begs me. What, is she some kind of idiot? No wonder dad didn't appreciate her shit. I might as well play along, though. It will be good to see my mom suffer even more before I kill her. "Oh, don't worry, mommy. I'm not going to kill you." She doesn't seem convinced but she decides otherwise. "Thank you, dear! Now, um, can you put down that knife now?" I laugh at that comment. Like, hell I'm going to put it down! She's probably going to turn me in the moment I let her go. "Oh, hell no. Also, I was lying about not killing you." With that said, I stab her hand with the knife so deep, she can't take her hand off the wooden floor. She screams and I swear, if someone comes in, I'm going to make sure mom's death is even more horrid. Her blood seems to flow through like lava from a volcano. Her deep red fluids actually look kinda good so I begin lapping away at blood with my tounge. Mhm, sweet, sweet flavour!
"Now then," I begin. "Shall I start with my procedure?" She stares at me, random words flooding out of her mouth. Most of which I don't catch but I do recognize a couple such as "Don't kill me!" or "No!"
I spot a jar full of pins and I know instantly what I should do. I won't give mom a fast death, no, I wish to torture her.
I grab the jar and I quickly take off the lid, throwing it on the ground. Mom then noticed the jars of pins I was holding and she screamed, most likely suspecting the worst which is what I'm going to give her.
I throw the glass jar of pins at the floor, causing glass shards and pins to fly everywhere. Luckily, for me, none of the sharp materials reached my body.