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...presents... Life Lost; Prosperity Gained
by Suicidal Maniac
>>> a cDc publication.......1991 <<<
-cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
______________________________________________________________________________
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Being your regular shithead, I have a few things to say.... Listen and
learn....
This file is dedicated to a certain ex-girlfriend of mine that thinks she can
understand every move I make and predict my next move. You know me less than
you could ever begin to imagine.
He who shit in road find flies upon his return....
Meaning, it all comes back to you. Think about it.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------
September 19, 1990....
Dave comes home to his loving family of three kids, and his pregnant
wife. Mom's cooking dinner, what more could a guy ask for, a wife to
wait on you and raise your children...
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September 20, 1990....
Bad day at work, Dave's a little upset. Business didn't go well...
Mom's doing her Lamaze breathing in the living room and the kids are
running all over the house screaming at the top of their lungs. Dave
just needs to get away from it all...
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
September 21, 1990....
Dave's boss got on his ass about the hell that took place the day
before. Dave's got a headache from here to Japan screaming for
Excederin... Dave enters the house, his wife is watching TV with 2 of
the kids, watching Sesame Street. He told them the night before he
wanted to catch the game. Why do they have fucking Sesame Street on?
Dave takes the remote control and changes to the game. This sets his
kids off...
"Daddy, turn Sesame Street back on..."
Of course, the bitch takes their side.....
"Honey, have a little consideration for the others in the family. Now
turn Sesame Street back on..."
Dave leaves and goes to his room to possibly catch a little rest.
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September 22, 1990...
Dave feels a sharp pain in his stomach and does not feel like going to
work, but knows after the way things have been he had better. Work
was the same shit, just a different day.
He comes home to find his wife waiting for him. He asks her why she
is all dressed up.
"Don't you remember, honey, we were going to look for things to
decorate the baby's room with."
"What about the kids?"
"Well, I figured we'd take them along."
"Are you nuts, female? Take three kids, 3, 6, and 9 to the mall?"
"Don't discredit me just because we can't find a sitter."
"The reason we can't find a sitter is because you can't raise these
things we call children to act somewhat civilized."
"Oh, and exactly what help have you been, sir? You spend all your
time at work, and never have time to spend with the kids."
"What the hell do you think puts the food on the table?"
Dave and his wife run off in opposite directions.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
September 23, 1990...
Dave has decided that he can no longer take the stress that his family
causes him. He must take action immediately. Dave brew up a plan to
make his life somewhat more bearable...
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September 30, 1990...
Dave's hate for his family has grown more immense every day he has to
spend with them. He is filing off the edges of his plan and collecting
his equipment that he will need for the bastard plot he has organized,
under the deck in the back yard. He's stamped a date on his rebellion
seeing the time of year, he found October 31st to be quite fitting.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
October 29, 1990...
Dave just barely drug himself through this past month with his family.
He's getting high a lot now to take his mind off of all the hate. He
agrees with his wife to take the kids trick or treating since she is
getting along with her pregnancy and should probably be off of her
feet.
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October 31, 1990...
Dave slips into his Freddy Krueger costume and assembles the kids in
the living room. They leave. He tells them that he needs them to walk
around back with him and get something. They follow his luring trap...
He leads them to the deck where he has his little toys assembled. Dave
draggs out the three ball gags and forces them onto the children. The
children have a look of horror in their eyes as they see their father
reach for some hedge clippers. The blades of the hedge clippers have a
glisten to them, one that resembles that of a fresh scalpel. It was
obvious Dave was finally putting that grinding wheel, he got for his
birthday, to use. He decides that he should terminate the 9 year old
first, as he would be the most capable of escaping. He opens the shears
on the hedge clippers and moves them so that his son's skinny leg is
between the shears. He squeezes with a little force and asks his son if
it hurts. His son's screams are muffled by the ball gag, but the look of
terror in his tear-flushed eyes has become even greater. He squeezes with
all his force and feels the blood gushing out of his son's leg as it spurts
onto his hands.
He decides that he shouldn't make his son suffer too long so he places
his son's neck between the shears and in one quick motion decapitates
his son. The blood on the glimmering sheers beads up and then runs off
the blades.
Next in line is the 6 year old. He has saved him something special,
the kitchen knife that almost claimed his son's life in an accident
two years ago. Dave felt that even an inanimate object deserves a
second chance.
He approaches his son whom he has tied to a support rod for the deck.
His son sees the look of madness in his father's eyes and quickly begins
to jerk about. Dave approaches his son and presses the sharp end of the
knife just barely hard enough onto his sons face to draw blood. His son
is shivering now and seems to be in a state of shock. Dave feels sorry for
him, so he puts the point of the knife to his son's chest, and with his
palm pushes from the end of the handle until the tip of the knife shoves
its way through his son's ribcage. His son had amazed Dave at how long it
actually took him to die. He lay there, looking at his father, a look of
wonder. Then, his breathing slows, and finally comes to a halt. He is
mortified.
One more left. He looks at his 3 year old daughter, who has a look of
confusion in her eyes. Dave's aware she has no idea of what is happening
and, with a little consideration, decides to take mercy on her. With one
quick lash, Dave decapitates his daughter. Dave picks up his daughter's
head and runs around to the front door. Dave rings the bell and hides in
the bushes. His wife answers the door and looks for the trick or treaters.
She couldn't find any, so with a look of confusion, she steps out onto the
porch.
Dave says in a childish voice, "Trick or treat."
His wife says, "Where are you?"
Dave rolls his daughter's head across the sidewalk in front of the
front porch to their house. His wife screams in terror. Dave gets up
from behind the bushes, and pulls his wife into the house muffling her
screams with his hand. He pulls her into the entryway and then starts a
sawing motion on his wife's throat with the kitchen knife. He wants to
make her death a slow and painful one as she has brought all the grief
and hate that has taken over his mind and life. He removes the knife from
her throat and proceeds to slice one of her breasts off. He grabs some
string off of the shelf next to him and ties her breast, freshly sliced,
over her mouth to act as a gag (this one's new).
He then takes the knife and cuts a deep incision into her impregnated
stomach. He reaches in with his hands and pulls out his baby. Whispering
to his wife,
"IT'S A GIRL... AREN'T WE LUCKY..."
With a quick stab to her temple, the blade penetrates her protective
skull and her life drifts off.
Dave sat for hours hunched over in the corner, thinking, thinking of a
farm. How the crops grow every season, in the same cycle, nothing ever
changes.
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Dave is now living in a nice white room with padded walls. He's
wearing a beautiful white jacket. Dave never realized how beautiful a
color white is. With all of the different colors we see in life, we
never stop to appreciate any single one. Sometimes life can swallow us
up with those little unnoticeable details.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Epilogue:
I'm more than sick, I'm disgusting...
-Suicidal Maniac (that's me), 6/26/91
_ _ ____________________________________________________________________
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(U) |====================================================================|
.ooM |Copr. 1991 cDc communications by Suicidal Maniac 07/20/91-#181|
\_______/|All Rights Pissed Away. FIVE YEARS of cDc|