I Watch The Light Leave Their Eyes : Scary Stories – Short Horror Story

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I have a deranged mind. I know this, how could I not? While other kids climbed trees, or rode their bikes, I was using the hunting knife my dad brought me to see what the inside of cats looked like. The answer, wet, squishy, and warm. And yes I did have a little taste. It wasn’t very nice, quite mettalic actually, like sucking on an old coin.

One cat started squirming around, still alive, as I was feeling about inside its stomach. The agonised noises it made were soothing. And that look in its eyes, the look of betrayel, that is what really got me excited. That final stare, before life leaves the eyes completely is priceless.

But there are only so many cats and dogs you can kill before growing bored. So by age, I believe thirteen, or was it fourteen? Anyway doesn’t matter, I started eyeing up a homeless man sleeping in an alleyway. Best thing about homeless people is they won’t be missed. Easy prey!

I waited until nightfall, as he laid sleeping on his cardboard boxes in an alleyway that stunk of piss. I hovered over him, as I fidgeted with the hunting knife in my hand. He was passed out drunk, and I could smell the whiskey on his heavy breath.

I plunged the knife into his abdomen, and sliced upwards, opening his stomach. I reached my hand inside and felt around the lovely warmth, and wiggled my fingers around his guts. He tried to scream, but all that came out was a pathetic whimper.

I slit his throat, and put my face right up to his, in order to better see the light leave his eyes. And in that moment, looking into his eyes, I saw my destiny!

A shopkeeper found the old tramps body the next day, apparently he went pale as a ghost upon finding it, according to the local newspaper. The police didn’t suspect a thing either, they said it was a drug deal gone wrong. And the rush I felt upon getting away with it was bliss!

I laid low for years after that, every night, as I laid in bed, I would savour the memory of the last moment in his eyes, that moment where life became fragile and weak, until eventually succumbing to the embrace of nothingness.

The bloodlust has always been with me, I don’t think it will ever leave. I’m in my early thirties now. Got a lovely wife, and two beautiful children, my life couldn’t be any happier really. Only I get these lingering thoughts in my mind that will not go away, thoughts no father, or husband should have of his own family

I wonder what their insides would feel like? And what would their eyes show me?

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