Jump to content
The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Recommended Posts

Posted

Brief Notes: Um... this is kind of a psychological thing, so it might be a little disturbing. Just fair warning, but I swear it is not bloody, just a small wound and a trickle of blood... that's all.

 

In addition: The narrator's voice is eerily calm. If you know of Karasu from Yu Yu Hakusho, think him. If not, just think of a psychotic person who is simply talking to you very calmly with the same calm stare...

 

Also: Yes... read slowly... Meow...

 

No, you do not understand. Nobody understands… How could you? To you, to everyone, the blade is to be feared. The cold steel against your fragile flesh brings nothing but fear to you, to everyone. How could you understand how much pleasure lies within the blade when you fear it so much? You, all of you, you fear the death. You fear the pain. You fear the warmth of your own blood against your flesh, against your tongue. You fear the flavor of yourself, the savory sweetness of your own blood running down pale flesh, the ecstasy of being weakened as the hot fluid spreads down you. You fear it. Why?

 

How could you understand? I do not blame your ignorance. You say that your ignorance is bliss, but do you know true bliss. Does your ignorance bring you pleasure? Can you taste your ignorance? Can you feel it? No? Then explain to me, how is it that ignorance is bliss?

 

I understand you think me crazy, but yet you have thought many people crazy. Is that not right? What is crazy? Perhaps it is you who has gone crazy, dwelling on the problems of others so much that you do not see that it has driven you to madness. Have you ever considered that those that you consider crazy are the only sane ones? Have you ever introverted your views, looking from their perspectives? Here, take my blade. No, I will not hurt you, nor will it unless you make it. Yes, that is right, take it. No, no, not the handle. Hold the blade, the steel. There you are, is it not cold? Does it not send shivers into your spine, does it not feel pleasant? Please, tell me.

 

Oh? You say that you do not understand it? You do not feel the pleasure within the blade? Here now, those palms of yours are not sensitive yet. Take the handle. Do not worry, I will not hurt you in any way.

 

Ah, here now, you hold the blade. What is that? You do not feel anything? Oh, poor you, you do not understand yet, do you? Press it to your throat. Now, now, there is no need for hesitation. It will not hurt you unless you make it hurt. You see? The blade is cold, but not painful. It is indifferent to you, your expression stays the same. The blade is wishing to know what you will do next with it. Turn the blade so that the blunt edge is pressed to your throat. You have a beautiful neck, do you not know that? Now, forgive me, I tend to lose myself from time to time. Slide the edge across your throat. No, not swiftly. Try it again, but slowly.

 

You see? I have seen your eyes brighten. You understand there is pleasure within the blade, but yet you seem bewildered. No, no, do not hand me the blade. It is natural to fear what you do not understand. You are but human after all. No, you must hold the blade. There now, please, pick it up. Do not be frightened of the blade. What is that? You fear me? Please, do not fear me, I will not hurt you. Now, please, pick it up. Good.

 

This time, please, put it to your arm. Now, now, the sharp side. Do not be afraid. As I have said, the blade will only harm you if you let it. I would not have you put it to your wrists, we would not want to kill you, would we? There you are, it is cold, is it not? Yes, I can feel your pleasure from here. Yet, you still show fear. If you fear the blade, it will harm you. Ah, now that will not do. Please, stop shaking your hand. The blade understands that you fear it, and if you draw it now, you will be hurt. I wish you no harm, so please, pull away for the moment. Allow me to handle the blade. Thank you, you are most kind.

 

Do you see? The blade knows me. It knows that I am unafraid of it, it can feel my pleasure. I can see that you are bewildered, you still seem not to understand. Observe closely. A-ah! There. Yes, that… I have longed for that. Thank you. Now then, I see that you are curious. Here, let me clean the blade for you. There we are.

 

Do not worry about my wound, it is meager. I will refrain from tasting it as we have not progressed that far yet. Please, take the blade. Yes, that is right. You seem to be better understanding now. Yes, that is right, press it to your arm, but gently, and move slowly across. I see that you are gritting your teeth as the blade shreds each layer of your flesh. No, before you draw blood, please stop.

 

You have progressed much, but you still fear the blade. No, there are no more examples. Please, try again. Bring it to your arm slowly and let the anticipation ready yourself. Imagine the blade being brought closer to your fragile flesh. Feel the dull presence of the blade steadily becoming sharper as it draws nearer. No, do not look at the blade, feel it. You will know when it has touched you for the anticipation will make the pleasure great. There, you feel the blade, and it is cold, sending waves of pleasant chills into your spine and along your arm. Yes, you can feel the thin blade pressed to your skin, the glint in your eyes tells me that you want it. Now, slowly, draw it across your arm.

 

Yes, you feel it tearing away, but you show no fear now, only pleasure. It is cold and satisfying, and the warmth that will follow will only make it greater. It does not feel as if it is common flesh anymore, does it? It is something that is sensitive, something that everyone has forgotten could bring them such delight.

 

Oh my, your wound is open. You can feel the blood trickling slowly down your skin can you not? Yes, the warmth leaving small goosebumps behind, your own delight causing the chills that create them.

 

Oh, now, now you understand, but not in entirety. The option is yours, as you may taste your pleasure, taste the warmth of your own blood. I can see that you desire it, but you feel awkward. There is no need for that, do as you will. What is that? You feel strange because I am observing you? Here now, I will close my eyes. I am trusting you.

 

… Ah, there we are, I see your lips have been stained. I see that you long for more. Please, do not let my observation keep you from your desires. It will only begin to hurt once you fear that you are doing wrong. Here now, I shall tend to my own wounds. Do you see? Now my lips have been stained as well. Yes, I see that you understand. I can see the lust in your eyes, and that is only natural. You will learn to be less hasty in the future, much as I have learned. For now, however, indulge yourself. Please, do to yourself as you wish with my blade. I will merely observe.

 

I am proud of you, I am very proud of you. You understand me now. I see you, licking your wounds, the ecstasy you must be experiencing, and I too long for it, but I am merely an observer for now. Do as you will, my beautiful apprentice.

 

(Author's note: Sorry if this disturbs anyone... I just love my twisted mind soooo much! Meow!)

Posted

Heh, impressive... Not many people even experiment with writing in the second person.

 

It's an interesting look at a somewhat disturbing topic...

 

Bleh... I've got nothing to say. *Sighs* I liked this... But then, I'm somewhat demented at times, myself.

Posted

I understand you think me crazy, but yet you have thought many people crazy. Is that not right? What is crazy? Perhaps it is you who has gone crazy, dwelling on the problems of others so much that you do not see that it has driven you to madness. Have you ever considered that those that you consider crazy are the only sane ones?

I have thought about that very line so many times. Great job on the story. I can understand what he is talking about. ;)

×
×
  • Create New...