Eris

Right, about two years ago I got bored of all horror movies because they were no longer scary. None of them! I decided to write my own. There are six main characters and this is the back story of one of them. It wouldn't actually be in the movie or story if I chose to ever make it, this is just bonus content if you will. I just thought I would share it with you. 

P.S, The first two paragraphs weren't originally meant to be part of this, it just happened... Bit of Triv there for you.

The cell was damp and cold. How else could they try to break your spirit without breaking some law about torture, or destroying your human rights. They sit you in a dark, damp, cold cell and leave you to rot for the duration of the court decided sentence for some petty crime you committed while young and drunk.

The silence and chill slowly drives you insane and the occasional drip of unidentified greenish, brown, liquid from the water logged ceiling makes you want to just dink, or at least taste, the stuff to see if it is in fact poison, as you expect it to be. If it was poison then at least it would give me something else to think about. So, you think about how you have gone wrong and what you could have done better while seething in anger about how that twat actually got away with it.

Of course there wasn't any CCTV when he was the one attacking the poor girl but all the footage in the world when I defend one of my friends. Of course he wouldn't get convicted because he is quite friendly with the judge and said Judge's son is quite a fan of this big shot ass hole but when I try to stand up for myself in court I am labelled as a "crazy feminist" who needs to calm down and let things happen. It was my fault that she ended up in hospital, according to him, and slipped into a coma.

It was only a short sentence. A couple of weeks in a minimum security facility because this prat said he could understand the mistake and would "let it slide." I did that time. I came out again and was charged with manslaughter. She died the day I came out. So, if I am going to be in prison for at least ten years, why not go the full hog and get a couple more in.

I went after him. Tore him apart. Left his intestines in a long line in his big fancy hallway. Liver and bladder smeared on the stairs in bloody clumps. I threw his kidneys around his office as if I was throwing a couple of tennis balls around. His stomach was ripped apart when I got to it so I just left it in the bath, I mean, why the hell not. I burnt his heart. It went black, charred, life and loveless. It would be sort of symbolic if I was into that sort of shit. Any remaining blood that was in his body I drew pictures on the wall with. In hindsight they were pretty, perhaps I should try to recreate them on paper with a pencil.

Apparently when they found me I was lying on the kitchen floor. I was covered in blood and guts and holding a drill. Oh yea, his lungs were nailed to the door, I can't remember why.
Besides, that bastard deserved it.
They passed off this murder as a psychotic episode because of grief. I wasn't grieving, I don't feel sad when someone dies as it is obviously inevitable. I just wanted to kill him. Not for her, but just to send a message.

So here I am. Sat in this damp, cold cell. It doesn't matter much though, I'm breaking out soon. At least that is what I tell myself. I couldn't break out of this hell hole if I tried. The orderlies come round every half a hour with sedatives and make sure you are jacked up enough not to attack anyone(bliss), Guards at every entrance, even the fire doors! (talk about safe much), and I don't know how many security cameras.... It's like living on a episode of Big Brother but with more drugs.

My name is Eris. It comes from the Greek goddess of chaos. No one can say I don't live up to my name.