where i belong part 2
"do you take your whiskey and coke with iceeeeeeeck!" her eyes were wide with fright, surprise, and to Gregg what looked like excitement. he had burried the blade to the hilt right between her large tits. his hand clenched her ass still as he pulled the blade out slowly. she watched, in shock, as i came out inch by bloody inch.when it was fully freed from her now crushed sturnum a river of blood poured out and ran down her tight shirt ti her too tight hip huggers. Greggs cock was so hard now that he could hammer a nail through red wood with it. he plunged the knife back down into her left breast now. and then into her right breast. then her left cheek. with the last blow she fell backwords onto the dingy yellow lanolium tile. he then stabbed her another thirty seven times.when he was done cleaning up the blood from his knife and person he walked to the front door. it was such a beautiful night that night. now that night seemed like centurys past even though it was only months ago.now he sat staring at his legs which were about ten feet away, holding his intestines in his hands.not too long after his last murder (which was a homeless boy) the police started to up their night patrols and had hired on more officers. he was gonna get caught and he didnt want that. but he still wanted to kill. to experience the hunt. one day while walking down the street to Gingers house to get a blow job and try to keep his mind off of hunting, he saw a new addition to the towns strip mall. it was an Army recruitment office. emblazoned on the front door was "an army of one" with a picture of a guy in battle dress, camouflage paint, and a big fuckin gun. the bj could wait, Gregg thought, i've gotten better head from a transvestite hooker in Tiahuanna. walking into the a/c of the office front cooled the sweat from Greggs face. one desk sat right in the middle of the room flanked by file cabinets and a large black man in fatigues sat behind the desk. normally Gregg hates niggers, but this one was a soldier and looked to be a very good soldier. the pinkish scar that hooked from under the soldiers left earlobe down to the middle of his large neck had its own story to tell which we can't get into here. 'good day sir, i was wondering what this was all about." "don't call me si, i work for a fuckin living you skinny piece of shit!" the soldier, who Gregg had now seen was named Gunn, barked back. "it's seargent, boy, Seargent Gunn. and this is all about killin fuckin terrorists! you wanna rub out some sand niggers, boy! yeah, i said it! i said sand nigger! dont look so goddamn surprised!" Gregg wasnt srprised as much as amused. this porch monkey had called a towel head a sand nigger! he had already decided he was signing up. five months later, alot of bullshit training, and he was shipped over to Iraq. eighty second airbourn infantry. his battalion were his brothers. his second day in country and they go on their first partol of Fallujah. broken down into squads they combed the streets for insurgents ,and were pretty much just there to make a show of force, when shooting breaks out on Greggs squad. they get pinned in in a mud hut with nothing to barracade the door or windows with. out of the corner of his eye Gregg sees a man running towards them. "target 8'o clock!" his brothers turn and unleash a hail of bullets halting the mans advance. dead, the man still managed to accomplish his mission. while falling he threw a grenade and it rolled right into the hut in the middle of the group of soldiers. Gregg saw and had just enough time to leap over it. it went off before he was completely on top of it and tore through his torso making a grissely RIIIIP! sound with the blast. "oh, shit,OH SHIT! DOC! DOC, GET OVER HERE! G-HOP BEEN HIT!" Sanchez was always a dim bulb, but a good friend. he cried and held Greggs hand as he died. Gregg awoke in a (room, cave, auditorium???) space that was black, very black. he tried to yell, but no sound escaped and he had no sense of time or orientation. he didnt know where up or down was.(am i dead? am i alive?am i in space? am i on some really good acid??) staring into the darkness ahead he began to see a figuere take shape. he heard footsteps echoing out and up to him from the figure. he then began to see a wide set of teeth, too wide to be human, and what he thought were red embers floating above the(grimace,snarle?) smile. light shone from the figure and the previous images were gone and forgotten. a tall, slender man not unlike himself stood before him. he wore a nice black suite with a pristinely white shirt, his hair was black and slicked back, his hand fingers interlaced hung in front of him. "Gregg! we have been expecting you for quite sometime!"