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Dialogue Essays: The Dripper

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Drip. Drip. Drip. The rhythmic sound reverberated in his eardrums, deafening all other noise around him. It overpowered the slowly diminishing thump, thump, thump, which had first piqued his interest. But now, that heartbeat, once strong and alluring, was nothing more than a dull, aching blot giving away to the hollow darkness. He dropped her, another dissatisfying thump, onto the floor below him, and stepped back. There was a moment of clarity, which washed away the proverbial red before his eyes, only to leave in its place much more redness. The clarity became a shock, but for the wrong reasons. Like when a person, pumped with adrenaline, at the scene of an accident notices odd details, irrelevant notions, but those pieces of the image stick with them, as an out of place reminder. Stefan’s realization was that the girl’s—the victim’s head was intact on the body. There was blood, and lots of it, but he had been far more gentle than he usually was in his throws of bloodlust. It was a disturbing notion—again for terribly wrong reasons. If he had been gentle, it meant he had been more in control. If he had been more in control, than he had chosen this… …show more content…

He would never willingly choose to indulge in this way. He wasn’t his brother—he could not be like his

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