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Revenge On My Lips by Robert Eilers, on Flickr

He’d found me on the street clinging to life. He gave me food, water, and a roof. No one loved me more before him. Then he changed. I was caged and injected with an evil that wracked my body with pain. Wires inserted in my skin delivered streams of electricity through my muscles.

I began to transform into something bigger, stronger. I could feel a new spirit stirring within I did not like. Love was replaced with unquenchable hatred toward everything, especially him. For weeks I waited, biding my time, watching his moves for an opening to strike back at the one who made me, the one who destroyed me.

Warm blood erupted into my mouth from the neck of the man who called himself “Master”. He struggled against my grip, beating on my head and against my neck. He tried to scream, but only a gurgling sound came to the top when I clenched my jaws down upon his throat. The life drained from his body and into my mouth where I savored each sweet, delectable drop of revenge.

His arms fell to the floor. No longer would I be kept in a cage for him to probe and prod my body with his instruments of torture. I thought the hatred I felt would subside with his death, but the revenge on my lips forced me into the night to kill again.

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