Some people drink. Others fight. Some manage to measure the disastrous effects it has on their lives, and just let go. He was a special case: he had tried to forget, but some things just stick to your skin so much that they become a part of you.
The long walk he had taken to the designated place had not calmed him down. He still wanted to see the pain, the blood. Even if it wasn't by his own hands, he needed to see it - death in all its brutality and insanity. Somehow, he knew that would calm him down.
He was at the right place. He could feel it - and smell it. The closer he got, the more the smell of fear and death filled his nostrils. The smell of flesh freshly cut out and blood was simply unbearable, yet he walked on. This was a place most people would prefer to forget - it was one of those places you knew existed, but never cared to think about. Slaughter houses were cursed, and so were the people working there.
There were no guards, no security - absolutely nobody to ask him who he was. This was one of the few rare places ordinary people don't visit.
The smell outside was nothing compared to what was happening inside - the interior looked grotesquely clean, yet he felt that every inch of the place reeked of death. He finally found a man standing in a corner, with what looked like a sledgehammer. He didn't have much time to grasp his surroundings as the man, in an almost mechanical motion raised his weapon and brought it down with full force on a cow's head. There was a brutal thump, and the cow hit the ground. There was no blood - there was no visible pain. Yet, death had come so quickly... His eyes were open wide, expecting the brutal scene to cure him. Nothing happened.
A long and most painful "Moooooo" resonated throughout the building.
Obviously, the cow was still alive and struggling to live. The man completely disregarded this fact and walked back to a small chair and table, where a bottle of rum was majestically contemplating the entire scene.
The cow let out another painful sound - which the man seemed to completely ignore. He took a quick shot and went back to grab his slaughter weapon.
- "Wait!"
The man turned around, and saw him.
- "Whatcha want, kid?" The man said.
There was a silence, followed by another painful cry by the cow.
- "Let me do it. I want to do it."
Another pause followed, and a smile appeared at the corner of the man's lips.
- "Sure, you can have a try. Come on, come closer. Well well well, you're not properly dressed for the occasion, but 'sokay I guess. Come on boy, hold the hammer."
As his hand clutched the deadly weapon, he felt the true weight of death. He felt within the hammer the sadistic desires of that man - he truly saw how bad human beings could get.
- "Alright sonny, aim for its head. Bring it down with all the muscle in your arms. Go on, you can do it."
He lifted the hammer above his head. He looked at the cow, who couldn't understand what was going on. It had lived a miserable life: permanently sequestrated, it had been forced to give its milk to its human masters every single day. And now that it couldn't do that anymore - they wanted her dead. It was a miserable life, a miserable existence, and he really hoped that one day, human beings would stop being so selfish.
He turned around, and swung the sledgehammer hard on the man's head. It was quick, simple and murderously effective. The man's head exploded with bits and pieces of his brain flying about.
There was an immense satisfaction as he felt the frustration and anger leave him.
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