When Pain Subsides

Dripping Blood from Nathan Rupert
Dripping Blood from Nathan Rupert
dripping blood- crime fiction from Benjamin Andrew  flickr.com
dripping blood- crime fiction from Benjamin Andrew flickr.com
dripping blood from kate at yr own risk flickr.com
dripping blood from kate at yr own risk flickr.com
Bucket from Nate Oxenfeld flickr.com
Bucket from Nate Oxenfeld flickr.com
scalpel from Andrew Eason  flickr.com
scalpel from Andrew Eason flickr.com
Dripping Blood from Sweet Candy Luv TVXQ!4EVER  flickr.com
Dripping Blood from Sweet Candy Luv TVXQ!4EVER flickr.com

When Pain Subsides

By Tony DeLorger © 2013


The blade moved slowly, decisively,

and at the first cut blood gushed,

as if through spill gates, into multiple rivulets,

dripping, pooling quickly onto the hard cold plastic covered floor.

Her eyes wide in silent screaming,

she could feel the life draining quickly away,

and with her remaining strength,

she wriggled and squired within her taped bondage.

He looked down on her with complacency,

serenely steady but with excitement in his eyes,

pupils dilated, mouth slightly opened,

beads of sweat forming over his forehead.

Her muffled groans were soon replaced,

with a breathless acceptance, and a peacefulness,

and her body soon became still,

her eyes staring into nothing, greying over to a dull frost.

He frowned disappointedly; it was over all too soon;

had his desire been quenched,

or was his night just beginning.

His right arm fell by his side, resolutely,

the scalpel still dripping red,

and the river quieted,

just the remains of the flow from table to floor,

now a sticky coagulant, stringy, oozing.

He walked to a nearby table and looked through her purse,

her name, just another name,

pictures of her family empty and meaningless,

and all but a few dollars for coffee.

He pulled a large bucket over to where she lay,

scooping blood off the table top

and into the bucket with his gloved hand.

He then reached over to the bench and picked up the bone saw,

and began with the joints.

Blood spatter and small pieces of flesh exploded as he pressed down,

feeling empty, remorseless and somewhat put out,

that he still felt unappeased, dissatisfied.

But the night had only just begun,

and while he severed and bucketed the meat,

he dreamed of another women,

her long silken hair and full figure,

just like his mother...



The mind of a psychopath has boundaries and processes to follow. None of them however are remotely close to how we think and feel and in our lives, justify. The psychopath is completely justified and often seeks perfection at what he does, to both fulfill his stringent rules and desires, in order to survive in his world.

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2 comments

Tony DeLorger profile image

Tony DeLorger 3 years ago from Adelaide, South Australia Author

One has to sometimes place the self into character to explore that perspective. It's a fruitful exercise for fictions writers and one I do often. I love being a writer; life is simply a continuous passage of writing in the form of actions. All one has to do is open your eyes. Take care Wayne.


wayne barrett profile image

wayne barrett 3 years ago from Clearwater Florida

Wow. Very dark! The perspective of a psychopath. and can still make a connection to his mother!

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