so this is what came out. I leave you with a snippet.... because I really haven't written very much more and I have no idea what the plot is. But I do think it might be a short story. It's rough, it's raw, it hasn't been edited. Enjoy.
There's something incredibly satisfying about the sound of a man's head crunching into brick wall. It's not just the crunching noise, it's the way it crunches.The particular combination of crunch and smack. It's the jarring reverberation that travels back up my arm from the force of it. You can feel things shifting inside their head. Delightfully broken things. Things that aren't meant to shift. It's usually accompanied by some sort of grunting noise from the head currently being introduced to brick. I blame mom. It's her fault I'm such a violence junky.
Mom was canny old bitch. She knew that all the conflict and aggression inside her was a sword that would never go dull, never get worn down or tamed. After all, it was what she was created out of. Her very presence inflames people, makes them angry and prone to picking fights. And with their life's purpose finally achieved, there wasn't much cause for it all. I think she was tired of being the Incarnation of War for so long. So she settled down and had me --the only possible thing she could do to siphon off all that anger. But the selfish bitch didn't just halve it or something, that could of given us both problems, but probably manageable ones. No, she dumped as much of it as she possibly could into me and shot off to go sip Mai Tai's in fucking Maui. Leaving me with the armor, the sword, the horse and the biggest chip on my shoulder you've ever seen.
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