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He hacked into the flesh like a cannibal.

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Essay He hacked into the flesh like a cannibal. Blood oozed out. Brutally he tore its limbs to pieces. Red blotches stained the walls. The smell of the victim was gruesome, like rotting meat. The butcher held the pig meat up high with pride and placed it on the shabby table on the left side of him. Gently, he slipped his carving knife into his pocket. His physique was that of a giant. Blood was still dripping from his rough hands as he made his way to the exit of the building. Grabbing his black duffel coat, he walked outside whilst placing it upon his shoulders, slamming the door behind him. Whilst rubbing his bloody hands together the butcher sniffed the fresh air, continued to walk down the hill until he got to a dark alleyway. Snow glistened on the floor. As the street lamps with icicles hanging from them flickered, he continued his walk. ...read more.


Around the corner he peered with his eyes fixed upon number 13.Where the girls lived. As long as they were in there they were safe but the brutal butcher pursued his interests carefully, in hope of another victim. His elf like ears twitched at every sound as he heard the door opening. His heart pounded, he licked his lips. The chase was back on. While the vulnerable little girls resumed playing outside, he was waiting patiently. Little footsteps splattered along the floor in all different directions as the young untroubled girls played. Happily they chased each other, laughing and giggling boisterously, unaware of the assassin's presence. Potential danger was just around the corner. Closer and closer they grew to the beast's hideout. Weaving in and out all over the place, picking snow off the white coated floor, before hurling it at the opposition. Casually he dropped his cigarette on the floor before stamping on it violently. ...read more.


Closer and closer they ambled. Step by step. Walking to their deaths. They were now absent from safety. Quicker and quicker their nimble feet moved. With just the few steps of the little girls, they were evermore nearer to the old man, they were now in terrible danger. Squelching footsteps of the snow alerted the brute's attention. Snow fell from his boots as he shook them up and down. Quickly he appeared as if from nowhere. Yelling a battle cry he rushed towards them. Swinging the blade above his head. The girls shrieked in fear. Paralysed, they stood still, bound to one another, praying for mercy. The butcher stopped. His evil eyes set on the quivering girls. Circling them. Ready to kill. He pounced. Too quick for himself. In one violent fall, he landed flat out on the ice cold surface, howling in agony, with his face lying in the freshly fallen snow. The girls ran like they were given a new leash of life and never looked back, for this time the beast did not get its own way. The beast lay, still hungry. ...read more.

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