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Rated M
"There's...there's blood on the walls. Help us! Help us!"
This article contains mature content and is thereby considered suitable for ages 17+. This article may involve some level of sexuality, violence, serious language or ideological issues. Read at your own risk.
This is the original version of The Devil's Pacifism, a thriller story I had begun writing during high school, back somewhere between 1999 and 2001. While at the time I thought it was amazing and henceforth have used the name innumerable times, as well as the numerous recurrences of the protagonist's "murder persona", Loki Steinbach and the used of the term "Mad Jackson", it has over the years been recognized as being particularly poorly written. Because of this, it is now planned to eventually be completely rewritten. There is not, however, a planned date on when this rewrite might occur. Even so, The Devil's Pacifism is Somarinoa's personal favorite pet story project.



I stared at my hands for what felt like eternity. I watched quietly as the blood trickled down my forearms, forming droplets at the elbow and slowly splashing onto the floor. The gentle dripping sound of rapidly congealing blood amused me to a degree, and I was almost content enough to stand there listening to it for all time. It took a few moments, but I finally awoke silently from my trance, and lowered my gaze to the floor. Before me lay a girl, 15 or 16 years of age, half naked, her eyes staring into oblivion as her mouth silently protested her demise. I crouched next to her corpse, and wondered to myself what her life might have been like, had she lived a happy life? Did she get good grades in school? Had her father fucked her with a twig when she was little? I smirked at this last thought.
"Whore." I muttered softly to myself, chuckling at my own cruel joke as I ran my finger along the gaping carve in her neck. I felt a moment of sorrow for her, that she had to die such a cruel death, which was followed immediately for a craving of waffles.

Slowly standing, I told her not to worry, that all good little Christian girls get fucked in the end. I shook my head amusingly. Stupid Christians, such close-minded people. I turned on my heels and started to walk off, but stopped. After a brief pause I turned around and knelt before her body. I smiled softly and leaned down, kissing her gently on her scratched lips. I pulled my head back after a moment and gazed directly into her glazed eyes.
"Was it good for you?" I smiled. I pulled out my wallet and removed a $20 bill, and tucked it down into her g-string panties.
"Buy yourself something nice in Hell."
Then I left, leaving through the window she had granted me access to earlier that evening.


I awoke the next day to the sound of pounding at my window. After muttering a few obscenities about how they should rot in Hell for awakening me, I removed my naked self from my bed. I glanced back at my bed for a moment, and noticed that last night's excursions had aroused me in my sleep. Shaking my head slowly I covered up the stains and got dressed quickly. Opening the window, I looked up menacingly into the face of my good friend Robb.
Fuck, I muttered to myself as I smirked at his pleasant smile.
"Come in," I said, "don't just wait out there. The door's unlocked, you know."
"Right-oh!" he replied as he bounded over to the front entrance to my abode.

I sat into my comfy computer chair and swiveled it towards my door just as he opened it casually.
"Jo, what's up?" he said—I could swear that some form of glee clung to his words. Disgusting.
"Hey Robb. How's it hanging? Whatchu doing here..?" I muttered through clenched teeth.
He didn't seem to notice at all and began to prattle on about his day and his friends. I pretended to listen, while quietly thinking about how nice it would be to sneak into his house in the middle of the night and carve off every inch of his flesh and feed it to him. I smiled at the thought.
"That's cool." I replied after he stopped talking. I cocked my head to the side a little. "say... any new news at school? I'd love a good chuckle."

He blinked dumbfoundedly at me. I cocked my head to the other side, awaiting his response.
"Y-you mean you didn't hear?"
"Hear what? I don't get out much, remember?"
"...Some freshman by the name of Mandy Stevens was murdered last night!"

I held back my smile and instead raised my eyebrow slightly and let it sink in for a second or two before responding.

"Oh..? And how did she die, praytell..?"
"It was horrible, she had her throat slashed so deep it almost severed her head..! Her aunt found her topless with a Jackson shoved down into her thong. Poor woman is going hysterical. She came to the school today to get Mandy's things and take them home."
"A thong, huh?" I responded, "she musta been a slut, only sluts wear thongs. And with that Jackson down her front, I doubt she was much more than a prostitute."

Robb's eyes widened a little.
"Wait—who said anything about where the 20 was placed?"
I raised both eyebrows at once quizically.
"You said that it was down her frontside, but only the police and her aunt knew where the bill was placed, how would you know?"
"...I just guessed. Ever watch one of them shows with strippers in them? They always have money shoved down the front rather than the back."
"Hmm... yeah, I suppose you have a point."

I smirked at myself. Scotfree. The cops around these parts were too stupid to check for fingerprints and even with my slip up with Robb, he's not smart enough to figure me out. No one is. And if he somehow miraculously realizes my secret passion I'll congratulate his excellent etective work just before I carved out his insides and placed his head where his stomach should be.

"Anyways man, I gotta go, me and Matt are headin' up to Carrs and get some shit. Joo wanna come along..?"
I stared off into space for a second, before shaking my head slowly.
"Nah. I gotta shower here, and eat. You and Matt have yourselves a good time, arright?"
"Aight."
"Now, begone."
I smirked as I motioned to the door with the back of my hand. God how I loved video games.

I watched as he stood up slowly and left. I chucked as soon as I heard him lock my door from the inside and slam it. I got up quickly and went to the window, discreetly opening up one side of the blinds and watched on as he walked to Matt's house, studying his every movement.
"Today is a good day for murder." I told myself, and turned on my heels, heading for the bathroom for my morning shower.

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