SATANIC SITE

Episode 6

I think I fainted. And the place where I fainted was very alarming. I don't know who left me in the trenches. The terminal youth's shit has dried up on my face. Added to that, the dirty water blackens the smell of a million wastes from the trench. This is so insulting of me. Unsullied.

I took off my T-shirt with the image of the Bocel Demon. I use it to clean up the dirt that has become crust on my face. At the same time to insult the Bocel Demon who instead of helping me even asked me to worship him. God fucking. I pick up the rail rock to scrub the dirt. Let my skin abrasive, the important insult sign of the terminal youth be eliminated. I snuck into the station and headed straight for the toilet. Damn, the water's up! I just smuggle into the house of the dead who are deserted again residents. I used their water hoses that were crumbling fast to make my body clean from enemy dung. I'm wearing a car wash that forgot to put in the box by the maid. Crazy buddy, the smell of enemy shit is hard to get rid of. I was half dead withstanding the smell and taste. I was vomiting earlier. When my body was a little clean, I took the time to steal the clothesline of the tyrant. The shirt I was after last week, black with skulls. I'll be a Punisher!

Relax, my revenge is still burning. They have not escaped the snare of my revenge plan. Before I kill them later, I'll shoot them in the mouth. Really, my hands are itching to get back at them as soon as possible. This humiliation is hard I'm accommodating lamalama. My handsome face is like this, if Basuki says it anyway, desecrated with feces? Delay!

I avoided Yut Kasmijan. I sneaked into the house without anyone knowing. I immediately cooked the water and arranged the washing bucket. I'm throwing a lot of soap in there. Detergents, bar soaps, makeup soaps, shampoos, clothes fragrances, to get rid of the insults on my skin. I submerged my face and the part of my body that was exposed to feces. Bodo very my skin will be affected by any disease due to a mixture of arbitrarily soaps. It was better than letting him still be covered in humiliation. Then after I soak my face for an hour. I put on the bucket and soaked dozens of tea bags, both the one that had been used and the one that was new. Let it smell a little natural. That I did anyway, soaking the face for an hour. After that, I washed my face with coffee powder. Then I slept with my eyes glued to cucumber slices.

I slept repeatedly. My body was covered in bruises from being hit and kicked so much. Thankfully I didn't die. If I die, it is in vain that I planted the grudge that yesterday. My nose still smells the blood from my bony face. At midnight I shivered. I hold. This is my attempt to hold a grudge. By alleviating the pain, I will make them sick many times more than I have suffered. Just watch.

My body covered whatever I found. Rice sacks, flour sacks, smelly sheets, and tarps all at once. I shivered great. Convulsing. My bones are like sticks of ice cubes. My head is heavy, it feels like I've been hit by a hammer.

I'll hold it. My resolve is round. This grudge must be maintained.

Two hours past midnight my right hand was moving on its own. I swear, I'm not the one who moves. His movements surprised me. Suddenly my right hand went up. Then his fingers bent by themselves. I don't feel pain. Well, I'm not gonna see my hands bleed mysteriously. But no, man.

Devil Bocel nongol with his parachute face. His half-blooded face made me vomit. The rest of his body is a fleshy human skeleton, covered in skin and long hair all over the body. At this moment, I could not speak and move at all. It's exactly like the weariness, it's just worse.

I just found out right now, my hand was used by the Bocelian Devil. He touched my right hand with his stumped right hand. I don't feel anything. But tibatiba, my hand is changed by a muntung. Jurig! I'm panicking. But my body is paralyzed. I saw the end of my stump hand shed blood. Not flowing and flowing down. Rather it gushed out and remained floating in midair, forming a hand borrowed by the Bocel Demon. Blood hand. For the ugliest genderuwo! It's macabre. I'm panicking. I tried to move my hand, but nothing came of it.

While the Little Devil chuckled, I saw it from his back that went up and down. His sound of chuckling was like zinc clashing. He moved slowly leaving me paralyzed by myself. The hands of the Bocel Demon were long and almost touching the floor, I saw his long sharp fingernails scratching the tarp floor of my room. He looked at me for a moment like a mock, I borrowed your hand to plunge. About that from the glare of his eyes. The eyes of one who was almost destroyed as well, visible from the ball that dented and almost out of the liquid inside.

The carcass! I can't do anything. My bruises and wounds felt nothing at all. But left helpless like this with the right hand borrowed by the wretched devil and replaced by the bloody hand, does not make panic?

I was curious, overwhelmed with terrible thoughts, about what the Bolean Devil was doing with my right hand.

He may not wear it to kill. Or hunting for the mash. Demons, right, doyan tumbala. Or did he use it to kill my target terminal youth? Well don't get it, that I won't accept. The terminal youth is my allotment. I will give the calculation to the Bocel Demon if he dares to snatch my ration. But wait, how am I gonna teach him a lesson? He's, right, a demon!

I then shivered again. This time with no part of my body shaking. My body is still paralyzed. I just felt the cold licking my bones and scratching with his sharp teeth. I just realized. Why didn't this thought come at the beginning? I just realized and horrified myself that my body became a den of demons. Is it because I am not religious?And strangely, I did not feel afraid or how to know that there was a distorted hoarse female voice that now appeared once in a while as a tall, hairy, half-faced creature, in my body.

About an hour and a half later the Bocelian Demon appeared. Something is different about him. I see his body is a bit full. He rubbed his lips from his half face with his left hand. Then he turned his right hand and released my right hand. Returned to its original place. The blood that formed my right hand broke, my real hand was reassembled, then the blood that broke it covered my hand, wrapping. So that's how my hands bleed for no reason. Involving occult entities. The demon that dwells in me.