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Macabre

“Why was I so weak? I could've...” (E) is still staring down, muttering to himself. As the man realizes he is wearing no pants, his eyes fill with absolute dread. He is making strange sounds as (L) brings the cigar cutter closer and closer to the man's genitalia.

The cloth on the man's mouth is turning red. (E) notices, [redacted] He bit off his own tongue. “You've still got time.”(I) pushed the man's testicle through the hole and slowly squeezes the cutter. It glides smoothly at first, and then suddenly it's a bit harder to close. The man begins to jump and shake furiously, but all his extremities are tied down.. (S) puts in a bit more effort. A small flop is heard on the floor. As well as a stream of liquid. Sounds that no human being should be able to make, tongue or no tongue are now coming from the man, the gag barely holds them back. (O) decides to pull different pieces of skin through the cigar cutter and shear them off one by one until the man's penis looks like some sort of sad polka dotted animal.

Once there is no skin left on the man's penis, (N) continues on other parts of his body. Pulling every loose piece of skin through the cigar cutter, and slicing it off. Elbows, eyelids, neck, lips. The blade grows dull and Pathos has no choice but to let the man continue to bleed, and growl in agony.

With time, the man eventually produces no more sound. The pool of blood and flesh beneath him tell the story. “We'll have more fun together in hell.”

Genesis

A blood curdling scream echoes throughout the basement. A deafening crash, followed by the sound of dripping blood. A hammer drops to the cement floor. A man with chin length hair hiding his eyes examines the horrid art he has created out of another man's face.

Meanwhile in a somewhat distant church another man dressed in a pure white robe, dirty blond hair, wielding a cross-shaped spear is departing with two friends by his side. One is African-American, dressed in a muscle t-shirt and jeans. He has two oversized axes attached to his hips. The third member is a female with dark purple hair. She wears a long Gothic style dress, and is equipped with a scythe on her back.

The man in the basement begins to chuckle as he wipes blood from his cheek. He then kicks the person that used to have a face onto the floor, falling from the chair in which he was seated. The murderer then sits in the chair as if it were a throne. He slouches to the side, with one arm propping up his chin, legs crossed content with himself, "Next."

“What's the skinny this time boss?” The large black man says to the blonde man. “They've located a man who's a part of some cult. He has been burning churches... In doing so he's killed 12 people already. We're to take care of him, Attis.” The large muscular man, Attis, nods confidently. “Let's be careful Verus, we never know what's up with those cult members.” The girl comments. Verus replies, “Come on now Lily, we've been doing this for how many years now? Light work.”

“I've got a special idea for you” The dark-blue haired man says dragging another victim to his “torture chamber” from a different room. The man is heavily drugged and can barely formulate a sentence or open his eyes. He is thrown in a coffin with tubes coming from the sides leading into a life support machine. “This'll be somewhat of an experiment on you.” He says smirking, “I hope you enjoyed any happiness you had while it lasted.” The man barely fits inside the coffin and surely cannot move once it is shut. As the blue-haired man makes the final adjustments, the man in the coffin weakly reaches a hand up and whispers “Pathos.” After correctly hooking the man to the life-support, The blue-haired man shuts the coffin and secures it with several locks, then checks the gauges to be sure everything is sound. “haha, so you remember my name, looks like I'll enjoy this much sooner than I anticipated.”

Abused

"The sound of your answering machine. The last time I'll hear your voice. It's Sunday night, you know I can't break routine, how I wish it were under different circumstances. Now that everyone knows about us, there isn't a soul in the world to share my feelings with... so I'll leave them here. My husband took my children and left, off to live with his parents I presume. I don't blame him, as long as my children can live happy, and not be overshadowed by my faults. I pray they never learn of such acts. I feel eternal regret for what has happened to you. Paying the ultimate price because of me, I could have never imagined a world without you, but now it is my reality. 
To tell you the truth I'm not long for this world either. Everybody knows about it... they all look at me with disgust and unforgiving eyes. They could never understand the relationship we had though, nobody could. I didn't want it to end like this... I'm afraid... Why must people be so cruel towards us? I never thought it would end this way, it was my fault we were caught. Who would have ever known that our worlds would come crashing down over something that we shared together? 
My love for you is a bond that could not be broken. I am eternally yours, and there is nothing I could do to stop my feelings. Why do they not see this? I have no control over who I love. Your love was something no other man could replicate. The entire life I lived with my husband was a lie, when you touched me, I was alive. I'll miss every intoxicating night by your side. You were the breath in my lungs, and the sun in my sky. No longer must I hide though... I can finally leave all of my feelings here, and then at least I can once more... be happy. Will you be waiting for me? Will we go to the same place?
Do you think he'll forgive us for this sin? Will God understand? This is fate isn't it? Our lives were predetermined... It's not our fault... it was God that made us feel this way for one another wasn't it? It wasn't your fault. It was never your fault! Oh my God, why did you have to die!? Why!? You left me all alone. In this small town, everyone knows my name, and now my reputation. They're all apathetic beasts. I hate them... I hate them.
I love you... from the start to the finish, I'll always be your girl. I grew up too fast, the end is staring me dead in the face... well, I suppose it's me staring at death. I'll leave with little regret though. If I could go back and do it again I would. My only regret is causing you pain. Your suffering is an ache in my heart that refuses to pass. A tightness in my chest that grows each day. 
Remember reading stories, and cuddling with me each night before I went to sleep? I'd trade anything in the entire world for that again. Unfortunately these are fleeting dreams that only exist in my head for the next few moments. I have to go now... there's something I have to do. I don't want to forget this happiness while I still grasp it, as it's the only solitude I've had in days. Please wait for me, up in Heaven... I love you... Daddy..."

On Power, Apathy, and Society

There are less than 15 people in this world. The one with the gun controls the rest. As they remain under his command he is glorified by some and hated by the others. With such mixed opinions no revolution is possible.

There are 5 people left in this world. Some died of old age while others were shot in an attempt of mutiny. Four work, he commands. His commands make everything easier for him, his slaves condoling his every need.

There are 2 people remaining in this world. The underling decided to rebel by refusing to carry out any orders. The overlord  so corrupt, and angered, killed his last remaining servant. The king was now alone. His heart grew bitter and cold at the realization of such loneliness. Day after day more sorrow and self-hate developed.

Everything of this world was in his possession  Nothing of this world was in his possession  The dictator fell down into the pit of despair. Back on the ground, the president lie down. His eyes set on the sky. The sky was a war of darkness and light. Slowly, but surely, the darkness consumed the last bit of light. The only hope that remained for the light was the Moon who shined brighter than ever. The Moon is a traitor, however; The Moon leads the darkness even though it shared qualities of the light. As the darkness enveloped his bitter soul, he lifted the gun with his hand. The moonlight glimmering on the grim killing machine used to produce fear and power. The item that made our hero who he was, his climax and defeat. The mouth of the gun put to the God's head. The despair soon to be released, a tear fell from its left eye. With weak hands the trigger was embraced. The parent didn't cringe, only accepting his descension to Hell. When no bullet was sent to his brain, a final cry was let out. He remained there for the rest of time, through many wars where the light won, and many wars where the darkness would overcome. His strength began to wane. Your G-d lie there until all of his power ran away to seek forgiveness. His last bit of power was taken, and time was over. No more wars and no more leaders. No more power, it is all no longer needed. Existence faded.