Stan: Prologue

A story about a mad man. Out to satisfy his needs, and replace what was taken from him.

All chapters are in a draft form, and have been written on my iPhone, so please excuse typos!

Would love for some feedback on it's alittle graphic...16+ please!! Not sure if I can age limit it, so just behave!!


1. Prologue

Stan knew what he was doing was wrong. He knew as soon has he had invited her into his house for coffee. 
As she sat in his lounge awaiting his return, he knew that picking up the carving knife was wrong. 
As he pulled her hair back as she sat from behind, exposing her slender throat, he knew it was wrong to slide the knife deep in to her flesh and pull. Slitting her from right to left, a crimson arch expressing itself as he did so.
He knew it was wrong to sit opposite her, watching her grasp at her neck, trying to stem the bleeding as if her fingers would somehow help. He certainly knew it was wrong to smile as he looked at him, desperate for help, trying to hang on to her life.
After she had stopped struggling, he knew it was wrong to undress her. Slowly peeling off her light summers dress. Taking care with her bra, and gently removing her lacy panties, exposing her most private of regions for his own enjoyment.
Walking to the cabinet, he reached up and took a small black box from the top. Sitting back down he opened it and revealed to himself his collection of scalpels and knives.
He knew it was wrong as he took a small scalpel and traced around her nipples. Removing both with the skill of a surgeon. After inspecting, smelling and tasting both, he placed them both on the coffee table. Opening her legs, he took his scalpel again, opening her pussy lips and slicing off her clitoris, placing it with the nipples on the table.
He knew it was wrong to bend the corpse over the arm of the sofa. Parting her cheeks and inserting his cock into the poor girls anus.
After he had soiled the poor girls corpse with his climax, he knew it was wrong to flip her over and grabbing another scalpel slice her belly from left to right. Blood oozing out from the gash he had just made. He knew it was wrong to empty the poor girls abdomen of its intestines, liver and kidney's. Placing the liver and kidney's on the table he left the intestines hanging from her gut.
Stan knew it was wrong to pull back her hair again, and scalp her. Letting her hair run through his fingers, holding it up to his nose to smell, then placing it on the table with his other trophies.
He knew it was wrong to goto his shed and pick up his axe. He knew it was wrong as he let the axe come down in her arms and legs in turn. Separating them from her torso. And he knew it was wrong when he took the axe to her neck. Letting it bounce over the floor.
Returning to the kitchen he knew it was wrong when he took the black bin bags out from under the sink. Opening them up he placed the legs, arms, head and torso into one each. Triple bagging them. He knew it wrong to carry them out the garage and put them beside the wood chipper. Ready for morning. He knew it was wrong to pick up the trophies he had left on the table, putting each one into its own freezer bag, and then placing them in the freezer with atleast another fifteen others. He knew it was wrong to scrub the blood away from the carpet and sofa. He knew it was wrong to after, make himself a cup of coffee and sit at the television, watching porn and masterbating until he fell asleep.
He knew it was wrong...but fuck it...he did it anyway...
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