The Razor

As I feel my stubble on my chin.
I stare at my straight-razor,
sitting patiently on my sink top.
It twinkles menacingly in the neon overhead light.
Almost as if trying to communicate with me.

But alas,
I know all too well-
precisely what it is endeavoring to tell me.
And I furthermore comprehend,
that once I grasp its glorious galvanized handle.
I shall feel those intense, overwhelming, delicious desires once more.

The desire to hunt my prey.
The desire for human blood.
The desire to manically mutilate

Yet in spite of this knowledge,
and perhaps because of it,
my trembling hand reaches out,
almost despite itself.

I watch on helpless;
Terrified.
Trembling.
Thrilled…

And as the cold steel meets my clammy flesh,

I know,

after three nights of resistance,

tonight,

Jack is back .

P.S. Gifford

P.S. Gifford is a published author specializing in humor-horror stories. He began submitting his work in 2005, and his frequent contributions led to an invitation for a weekly column at TheWeirdcrap.com. This resulted in the creation of the popular "Paperback Writer" column. For more stories, search for "P.S. Gifford" on our search bar or visit the Paperback Writer archive.

https://theweirdcrap.com/lunatics/lunatic-archives/paperback-writer-archive/

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