Saturday, May 3, 2008

Random tale

Some called they trannies, others called them born people born in the wrong body. Me, I call them monsters. They are like cancer cells, slowly spreading and taking over our body natural defenses, eroding and erupting like tumors all over. Initially, they were ridiculed, and easily separated from normal people. Slowly, as technology and science advance forward, they became harder to detect, prettier, accepted as part of our society, become teachers, models, and if that wasn’t bad enough, politicians. This is a story not about how they eroded modern society, but of how they took everything I had, my friends, my future, my hopes, and my sanity.

They are like the darkest creatures of the night, as their long fingernails caked with dried blood and dried semen; try to reach from the abyss to wrangle the neck of any unsuspecting males. Their howls in the night chills my very bone, as I recall the horrors of day pass, when I lose two of my best friends when we were bashing our way through changi village for supper. Their piteous cries haunted me till this very day, but there was nothing I could do, the trannies were too many. They started to mock at me, while having a deathlike grip on my crying friends, and they mock at me with their fake breasts, and started to sneer at me while shaking their hips in a thrusting motion.

I howled fleeing the accursed place, the mocking stares, and the disbelieving looks from my brothers, my friends, the two men I betrayed in my own weakness.

I have never forgiven myself till this day. I didn’t believe in god anymore, who could? Do you believe in god? If yes, can you tell me why he let my friends get viciously raped and murdered by a gaggle of trannies? What was it that I am going to tell their grieving widows? “Sorry, madam, your husband just got sexually abused and murdered by a bunch of marauding transsexuals.” Do you think this would cut it?

I didn’t even attend their funerals. February 29th, the irony of everything, cause this was the day Lionel and Wen died. It was supposed to be one of the happiest days of Lionel’s life; he had just registered his wedding with his girlfriend of 3 years that day, and had planned to get married next year on the same day. He was joking that at least he only had to buy a wedding anniversary gift once every 4 years. Now he would never be able to get another gift again.

<---Lionel, when he was caught, he was like a fish flopping around on a boat without water, only more tragic looking

Wen, my best friend, and all I can remember of him now was his fingernails digging into the hard granite floor, bleeding from his feeble attempts, fanatically trying to stand up, never giving up, even when his clothes were being ripped apart and fingernails were raking his bareback. He nearly did it. I could have reached out and grasp his hand, buy him some time and hit a few trannies. I didn’t. Fear stayed my hands. I saw him stood up, and nearly getting away with his final spurt of strength. But alas, dozens of roving hands groped his body from behind, and his feeble cries grew softer with every meter I ran to distance myself.

<------Wen's cry of fear and pain when he was torn apart physically and emotionally.

A few of the monsters detached themselves from raping my buddies, and started to chase after me, crying out to me to stay and play and shouting out “Man-meat, Man-meat!” What was apparent from their bloodshot eyes, their lust-filled faces, and the saliva coming out of the corner of their mouth in a twisted sneer that if I ran any slower that day, I would only suffer the same fate as my departed friends.

<-----Me shouting for my dead buddies.

I had to take vengeance for my buddies no matter what the cost will be, even if I died in the process, as it is the only way I can make peace with myself. I had to find another one of my friends to help me. Daniel, who was one of our group, thankfully away on a vacation that fateful day. Without any hesitation, he agreed.

Both of us tendered in our resignation letters the next day, and embarked on a journey of self-discipline and training. We hit the gym three times a week, and ran 20 kilometers every other day. We also enrolled in Judo, karate and boxing lessons at night. Since firearms were outlawed in our society, we started to train with makeshift weapons, knifes, batons, and motovol cocktails. (A homemade firebomb)

<------Daniel's last video clip of his will to his beloved and family.Who was to know that it would come in handy?

After 4 years, we were ready. We set out on a journey of no return, preparing to kill those monsters by becoming monsters ourselves. February 29th was the day they died, and February 29th will be the day we remember them.

We started to make a din, and the trannies in changi village saw us. They smile coyly and asked if we wanted to play with their boobies. Daniel shows his middle finger, and I threw two of the cocktails. The fireworks were magnificent, the best I ever seen in my life, as more than half a dozen of the unisex creatures scream in burning agony, while the rest writhed around on the floor in their feeble attempt to douse the flames.

We ended the miserly of each of them by systematically burgeoning each one in the face, and even then they did not stop trying to stroke our buttocks. One of them managed to touch Daniel’s groin and he rewarded that piece of filth by crushing its head with his heel. What happened next was totally unexpected.

The remaining Trannies after hearing the shouts and cries, rush towards us. At first, it was 2 or 3, then in groups of 4 or 5, and finally their last group arrived with more than 10 freaks of nature in it. Both of us were driven into a blood rage, and I am pleased to say that our training came in handy, until 3 of them pounced on Daniel. They drag him to their group, and the raping began. Once they started to rape him, all the remaining trannies ignored me, as to them, raping a man is similar to blood attracting sharks. Daniel asked me to do it. I did what I had to.

I throw two more motovol cocktails into their midst, and killed what was left of our group of 4 in the process. I killed myself that moment I had to kill my friend.

This is my last paragraph, and if you find it, I am probably dead already, as I plan to commit suicide. Please do not let them take over us.

The end. ( This story was written one fine day when I got really really bored and saw the news about ronaldo visiting trannies.In no way or another,do I aim to offend anyone with this story,it is just a spark I can't get rid of)


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