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Desert Sandby ~Heathen92
Blood on my HandsMy tools are clean. My hands are steady. I know exactly what to do.Blood on my Hands
Blood Spurts. It’s everywhere. It’s all over me.
This man has gang tattoos. I find myself wondering if his life has any value. If it ever did.
I keep going. It’s what I do. He screams.
My hand is inside his leg. I’m still looking for that special something. The thing that will make my night’s work complete.
The man struggles under my atte
by ~Heathen92
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Devious Info
- Current Residence: Texas, whoops now I'm covered in Sand.
- Favourite movie: Dark City, Feast, the Illusionist
- Favourite genre of music: Rock, Jazz, Piano
- Favourite poet or writer: Jim Butcher, Neil Gaiman, Harry Turtledove
- Operating System: Win Vista
- Wallpaper of choice: There is actually a little picture in my favorites gallery called 'tome of knowledge..."
- Tools of the Trade: Rapier wit, staggering intellect, and humble too
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XxX Fayness XxX
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let there be love
:hug> :">!
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I'm sorry.. I can't be perfect.!
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'oh just ignore her
she's the kind of girl who only eats meat to find the wish bone'
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