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GORE SENTENCE STARTERS.

* heavily triggered sentences, read & reblog with caution !!

’ The blood felt warm and sticky between my fingers. ’ ’ I’m busy digging the dry blood and fleshy skin from under my nails right now. ’ ’ Cut me open and finger my incision. ’ ’ Let’s cut his face off and wear it around the town. ’ ’ I never knew it would take this long to skin a human body. ’ ’ Hand me that drill over there, will you? ’ ’ Look at you, bleeding all over my new carpet! ’ ’ Oh, I’ll make you scream for me alright. ’ ’ There are maggots all over his face! Get them off! ’ ’ Can we fill the pool up with their blood then take a swim in it? ’ ’ You smell that? That’s the smell of decompsed bodies! ’ ’ Hang ‘em upside down, slice ‘em and watch the blood pour on me. ’ ’ You gotta drill ‘em right in the center of their forehead. ’ ’ Lick the blood from my fingers, unless you’re too chicken. ’ ’ Put the gloves on and help me remove these organs now! ’ ’ I dissect human’s in my basement for fun. ’ ’ I’m performing a surgery right now, care to join or better yet, watch? ’ ’ You ever eat a brain? No? Well, you’re eating one now. ’ ’ I have prepared brain for dinner tonight, hope you like… ’ ’ I prefer the human organs to eat over other species. ’ ’ Look, I cut if off their body for a souviner. ’ ’ I carve out their eyeballs and keep them for souviners. ’ ’ I spent all night making this mess, why would I want to clean it up? ’ ’ Fill those jars up with water, we’re going to put the organs in them. ’ ’ Alright, what organ are we taking from this one? ’ ’ You look so good with all that blood splatter on your face. ’ ’ This tub is used for fresh blood to bathe in. Cleanses the pores. ’ ’ I love to kiss those dead, cold lips! ’ ’ I’d rather kiss the dead guy than kiss you! ’ ’ Blood has such a sweet taste to it! Mmmm! Yummy! ’ ’ I’m sorry, what was that? You can’t speak clearly without your tongue? ’ ’ Ever play soccer with an eyeball before? It’s a lot easier for it to go flat… ’ ’ I will cut your heart out and eat it, just like you did to me! ’ ’ That rat bastard got me back, slipped on his brains and fell! ’ ’ I’m sorry, I can’t stop laughing at the girl talking with no tongue! It’s too funny! ’ ’ Be careful in there! There’s brains and blood everywhere! ’ ’ Go on and cut me, go on! Do it! Do it already! ’ ’ I’m going to mail your feet to the floor so you don’t run away again! ’ ’ Stop screaming, i’m trying to carve our names into your skin! ’ ’ I just wanted to carve a heart in his skin but he wouldn’t stop screaming! ’ ’ Go on and scream all you want! No one can hear you down here! ’ ’ There are fifty fucking paint buckets full of blood in here! ’ ’ I love the thick flesh under my nails when I claw them to death! ’ ’ Picking chuncks of flesh and meat from your teeth again? ’ ’ Guns aren’t any fun! They’re too quick! ’ ’ Killing with a gun is like getting off in two seconds! It’s boring! ’ ’ I got a knife with your name on it, if you’re up for it. ’ ’ After I kill you, I’m going to eat every organ in your body! ’ ’ I just want to get to the spleen of the stomach before noon today. ’ ’ I will slice you right down the middle, right here in front of everybody! ’ ’ I enjoy the sounds you make when I’m strangling you. ’ ’ I strangle people because that sound is sensational to hear. ’ ’ Leave the mess, never clean up parts of your finest work. ’ ’ I dug my nails so far into their skin I drew blood, then I licked it up. ’ ’ I shoved my thumbs into his eye sockets! ’ ’ Look, how do I look? Like the new face? ’ ’ All this blood came from just one body! ’ ’ Let’s go! We’ve got to move all these bodies tonight! ’ ’ I told you to stop sleeping with the dead bodies! ’ ’ Why is there a brain in your fridge? Is it.. from a human? ’ ’ Can you believe my knife went dull on me while I was stabbing away back there? ’ ’ Where is all the knives? Did you use them all? Again? ’ ’ What is that? Oh my, oh my god, what is that? Please tell me it’s not.. ’ ’ I’ve got a human heart in a shoe box, would like to see? ’ ’ I could see his heart when they shot him with the shot gun. ’ ’ How are you still alive? I can see your ribcage! ’ ’ When we get married, we’re tying dead bodies to our bumper instead of cans! ’ ’ I always wanted to go on a killing spree with some backseat hostages! ’ ’ Can I finger the punctured hole! Just one time please! ’ ’ How are they still alive? I can see they’re ribcage! ’ ’ Wow, I can see your bone! I’m going to touch it, just once! ’ ’ No offense but I really wanted to listen to music while sawing these limbs off. ’ ’ I’m going to beat you with this sawed off limb, here I come! I’m coming, you better run! ’

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❝   can’t  blame  a  man  for  being  excited  about  buying  in  bulk .   ❞

ind.  semi-selective .   norma  bates .   bates  motel .

personal / non-rp  blogs  do  not  interact .

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Sentence meme (Torture my character version)

Make them cry

“I never loved you.”

“You’re the reason they’re dead!”

“It’s all your fault!”

“Who could ever love you…?”

“You’re so stupid. So weak.”

“Just go away. I don’t want you here.”

Blackmail them

“Who would’ve thought a sweet thing like you would have such a secret?”

“I’ll tell everyone. Scream so loud the country will hear.”

“I have a friend with a radio station, you know. Broadcast it all over the city.”

“If you want this back, you’ll do whatever I say!”

“Be a good little slave, you don’t want your secret out, do you?”

“I know everything. I can ruin you.”

“Beg me, and I might consider keeping my mouth shut.”

Interrogate them

“Sing, birdie.”

“I know exactly how to make you talk.”

“You know some fascinating things, don’t you?”

“I’ll use your greatest weaknesses against you, and you know I know them all.”

“I have means of extracting information from you.”

“I might play with you a little longer after you’ve talked. You’re too cute.”

“You’re tough. But I’ll break you.”

Yell at them

“You idiot! You dumbass! You- you fucking moron!”

“You’re absolutely useless, aren’t you?!”

“What the fuck have you done this time!”

“You don’t care about anyone but yourself!”

“You’re not human! You’re a monster!”

“You’re a disgusting little rat!”

“You’ve fucked up for the last time!”

Physically hurt them

“What, can’t take a punch?”

“I’ll kill you!”

“It’s only a scratch, asshole!”

“Don’t move, or I’ll shoot you!”

“I’ll slit your damn throat!”

“Kiss my shoes or I’ll stomp your head in half.”

“I didn’t mean to draw blood, but oh well.”

“That’s going to bruise.”

Torture them… gently

“You want some of this cake? C’moooon, beg for it!”

“Guess what? SURPRISE ICE BUCKET CHALLENGE!”

“Tickle-tickle-tickle! Kitchy kitchy koo!”

“Whaaaat? Is this yours? You can’t have it back, it’s mine now!”

“I’ll stop singing when hell freezes over!”

“Get in the locker, shorty!”

“Annoying? Me? Annoying?”

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❛ I'm sick, Mother. ❜ He etches out as he says his reply as a distraction from the thing that he had said out loud, concerning Norma. ❛ I need --- It's horrible, you know. ❜

disassociatcd:

❛ SICK? You wanna see sick, Mother? How would you like it if I – blacked out and hurt someone? ❜

          ❛   w -  what ?   ❜   softening -   she  pauses .   jesus  christ ,   what  a  horrible  thing  to  say !   ❛   what’re  you  trying  to  imply ?   ❜

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Norman hadn't got accustomed to children yet and once his older counterpart had asked him to watch his daughter, he had reluctantly agreed, though, he didn't know what to do, really. As he was parked right behind the desk that he had missed all this time, he had kept his eyes on the windows, wondering if anyone was going to come and rent a room for the afternoon -- knowing him, he was already planning his next attack. A smile forming on his lips, his thoughts awry as he heard sounds coming from the other side, he had walked towards it, only to see the seven year old girl.

A glance at her and now he remembered what his older half said about being happy and not so miserable for once, he had seen joy when he witnessed the girl at play, smiling as wide as she could. Parts of her looked like Norman, but parts of her looked like her mother ( whom he had never met before but still ) he knew that the older him was truly grateful and he should be, too. Hearing his name, he had perked up, soon making his way to the younger girl, placed right beside her. ❛ I'm right here, Ava. ❜ He remains calm, seeing almost everything he could with her, though, some parts of him knew that he couldn't have the happiness that the older him had, really.

He had seen nothing but innocence and love and he wondered if the older him was going to expose her to that, but he doubts it. Instead, he watched her color, humming softly.

@disassociatcd (with Ava)

The seven year old Ava Bates sat down in the middle of the floor of the parlor, which connected to the office of the motel. Her father had to run some errands and had asked his younger self to watch her, even though he was a bit iffy about leaving his child with a younger, more damaged version of himself. It wasn’t like he could call Connie, she was at the hospital as usual.

Ava had a heavy quilt wrapped around her shoulders while the small pellet stove in the parlor was working tirelessly to keep the place warm. Next to her was an opened coloring book, the picture she had been working on was partly done. A box of thick crayons were spread neatly beside the book, a green one lay across the page. Her eyes never left the sight of the warm glow that came from the tiny window of the pellet stove, illuminating her soft features and her brunette hair that fell past her shoulders. Ava didn’t part her focus until she heard a pair of footsteps enter the room, making her smile brightly, “Norman, sit next to me! It’s super warm over here.”

Of course the child couldn’t have known that this boy was her father.

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❛ Stop what? Pray tell, since you're so SMART. ❜

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❛ Yes. As a matter of fact, I listen to the voices in my head. And they tell me what to do. Sometimes, Dylan – I see things. ❜

“Stop it.”

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❛ SICK? You wanna see sick, Mother? How would you like it if I -- blacked out and hurt someone? ❜

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❛ Parts of me WISHES you were dead. ❜

       ❛   and  part  of  me  wishes  you  weren’t  so  SICK ,   norman !   ❜   

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❛ Must be lonely without customers, ❜ Norman takes one last look around before even saying anything else, but this man has something about him that's somewhat intriguing, really. It's scary how this man reminds Norman of himself and yet, he's not commenting on it. ❛ Since you were a teenager? My mother and I owned a place just like this, ❜ He remembers how it looked, too. Just like the same place he was in -- it was scary, yes. But he'd be damned if he wasn't going to speak up about his old home.

For a second, Norman feels like he's home, he knows he's home but doesn't want to say anything to worry the grown man, so he doesn't. However, he listens to the guy and smiles in return, wondering if he was going to get that; to be as happy as the hotel manager seemed or so it looked. ❛ And yet, your wife isn't here. Pray tell, where is she? ❜ He tilts his head in the utmost curiousness, flipping the papers as he looks at almost every name and goes back to when he had seen names like those. Norman lets out a soft chuckle and looks back at the older male, humming softly.

Hearing his name -- Norman had blinked, it was like travelling through time or something because he wanted to scream and yell at the man for taking his name. ❛ Norman Bates, ❜ His voice is barely above a whisper, but he still takes his time to comment on the identity theft. ❛ Pleasure to meet you, I'm -- Norman. ❜ He's somewhat calm about it, but on the inside, he wants to say something and accuse the man of stealing his name.

Taking the keys, he shows off his smile to the male before even commenting on anything else. As he touches the details of the key-chain, his memories flood back, every single customer that had come in and the ones he had chased away, it was all coming back now.

disassociatcd:

This man seemed slightly familiar, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. However, he didn’t want to make casual conversation just yet. He had looked over at the harsh pictures, remembering that it was his home as well – he just never really said anything about it out loud. Not to stranger, of course.

A jovial laugh leaving his lips, Norman had shook his head, his hand upwards to pass it through. ❛ It’s quite alright. Quiet here, though. ❜ He comments as he furrows his brows, wondering why it had gotten so rundown all these years, but he doesn’t want to ask and make things seem entirely awkward, at least not right now. ❛ Guessing everyone likes sleeping in cars or at other people’s homes, ❜ A small hum leaving his lips as he lets the memories flood back, soon placing his hand on top of the old desk he used to stand idly by.

❛ Just me. I don’t have anyone to — surround myself with. ❜ He tries to remember the old days when he had someone to actually be around, all he remembers fully were his mother and his half brother, Dylan. Up until things started to happen, then he had become reclusive. ❛ Well, aren’t you a lucky man? Some of us aren’t that lucky. ❜ It comes off as sarcasm, but it’s not. He’s happy that someone found the need to be happy, really. Even if it were some stranger he just met.

His hand gripping onto the fountain pen that the other had handed him, he scribbled his name under the last guest that signed in, soon handing the pen and book over. ❛ There we are. ❜

“It’s also quiet because I’ve been trying to renovate this place by myself. It’s been a long time since I’ve been here,” the man cracked a small smile, “Someone had the great idea of letting this motel go into another’s hands besides mine while I was away…Luckily, I’ve come back for good. My mother and I have owned this property since I was a teenager…”

Looking across at the boy, when he spoke of how lucky he was, Norman thought back. He was very lucky. But then he softly spoke, his eyes gazing to the book on the table, “It’s taken me thirty years to have a normal life….I’m lucky I even had multiple chances at it. Finally, it seems I’ve got it right…”

In an instant, his expression changed back to a slightly cheerful one, “Enough about me. Sorry- I forgot to introduce myself. Norman Bates. And-”

He walked to the cork board that had all the room keys on it. The cabin one key was missing…and that was for good reason. His long hand grasped the sixth cabin’s key and went back to the counter to hand it to the teenager, “Here you go.”

This boy was alone. When Norman was his age, he was the same way…His mother never allowed him to go out with friends…Every friendship he ever had, every girl he ever wanted to have a relationship….gone…All gone.

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❝  QUITE UNUSUAL, NORMAN!   ❞

independent and private norman bates from bates motel, please read the rules before interacting.

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This man seemed slightly familiar, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. However, he didn't want to make casual conversation just yet. He had looked over at the harsh pictures, remembering that it was his home as well -- he just never really said anything about it out loud. Not to stranger, of course.

A jovial laugh leaving his lips, Norman had shook his head, his hand upwards to pass it through. ❛ It's quite alright. Quiet here, though. ❜ He comments as he furrows his brows, wondering why it had gotten so rundown all these years, but he doesn't want to ask and make things seem entirely awkward, at least not right now. ❛ Guessing everyone likes sleeping in cars or at other people's homes, ❜ A small hum leaving his lips as he lets the memories flood back, soon placing his hand on top of the old desk he used to stand idly by.

❛ Just me. I don't have anyone to --- surround myself with. ❜ He tries to remember the old days when he had someone to actually be around, all he remembers fully were his mother and his half brother, Dylan. Up until things started to happen, then he had become reclusive. ❛ Well, aren't you a lucky man? Some of us aren't that lucky. ❜ It comes off as sarcasm, but it's not. He's happy that someone found the need to be happy, really. Even if it were some stranger he just met.

His hand gripping onto the fountain pen that the other had handed him, he scribbled his name under the last guest that signed in, soon handing the pen and book over. ❛ There we are. ❜

disassociatcd:

A sullen look on his face as he glanced over at his old home, seeing how ugly and rundown it was, Norman cringed. It had been the first time since he moved back home and god – it felt unusual to be back, but it was home and he was happy to be home, but it didn’t feel like home. Not since the things that happened there, it didn’t feel like that at all.

Walking into the office that he used to work in, he had noticed a man – a much more older looking man, sort of looking like him, though he never commented on it. And witnessing someone’s eyes blow wide like he saw the man’s, he had graced a smile, wondering if the man had known who he was.

❛ STARTLED, you say? You look like someone who’s seen a ghost. ❜ He laughs, a tilt of his head as he glances over at the man. ❛ Yes, I am. Planning to stay a night or two. ❜

The man chuckled a bit, thinking how foolish it was to be startled by a teenager. A teenager. To be honest with himself, teenagers scared him mostly around the time of homecoming. The cops always had to show up. Every year. 

“Sorry about that,” Norman cracked a small smile, sticking his hands in his tan jacket pockets, “I just haven’t seen someone come here in a while. The new highway has brought down our attendance numbers significantly….”

When the boy said he needed a room, Bates grinned, “Sure. Excellent. Just you? I wouldn’t blame you for wanting to go out by yourself- if that’s the case. I loved my mother to death, but there were times that I just had to get away. Now I have a lovely wife and a daughter.”

He then flipped the pages of the guest book to one that was unfinished, the last guest who signed it had the date a long time ago. Handing the teenager an old fountain pen, he gave the boy a polite smile, “Just need you to sign here.”

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❛ Yes. As a matter of fact, I listen to the voices in my head. And they tell me what to do. Sometimes, Dylan -- I see things. ❜

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❛ You’re wrong, Dylan. I feel — great, actually. Better than usual. ❜

“Right. ‘Cause Norman, my brother, that’s the guy who’s capable of that – of murder. Are you even listening to yourself?”

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❛ You're wrong, Dylan. I feel --- great, actually. Better than usual. ❜

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❛ Lay down? I think I’ll be fine, Dylan. ❜

“I don’t. You’re not acting like yourself.” 

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❛ Lay down? I think I'll be fine, Dylan. ❜

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❛ — How did you know? I’m trying to become a stand-up comedian.  No, I’m not.❜

“Maybe you should go lay down.” 

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❛ --- How did you know? I'm trying to become a stand-up comedian.  No, I’m not.❜

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❛ And if I had the chance to do it again, I would. ❜

“You trying to be funny?” 

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💕 mnh oh no

NORMAN’S EMOTIONS ; accepting.

Norman and being in love with someone – it seemed non-existent for a while. He’s dated girls before, but he’s never really gotten that ‘I’m in love with them’ feeling before and while it’s kind of sad, he finds joy in someone else, really. ( Not pointing fingers, but Norman finds himself to be enamored with someone that’s been there by his side ).

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A sullen look on his face as he glanced over at his old home, seeing how ugly and rundown it was, Norman cringed. It had been the first time since he moved back home and god -- it felt unusual to be back, but it was home and he was happy to be home, but it didn't feel like home. Not since the things that happened there, it didn't feel like that at all.

Walking into the office that he used to work in, he had noticed a man -- a much more older looking man, sort of looking like him, though he never commented on it. And witnessing someone's eyes blow wide like he saw the man's, he had graced a smile, wondering if the man had known who he was.

❛ STARTLED, you say? You look like someone who's seen a ghost. ❜ He laughs, a tilt of his head as he glances over at the man. ❛ Yes, I am. Planning to stay a night or two. ❜

@disassociatcd

An older Norman Bates skimmed his hand on the edge of the old, yellow pages of the guest book that had been there since he was a young boy. The number of guests that wrote their signatures didn’t even go halfway into the book’s large thickness. He didn’t dare go to the pages where the women he loved-killed- wrote their names. It was too painful. It was foolish to dwell on the past. He was a normal man now with a wife and a beautiful baby girl. Nothing could change that. Just then, the phone rang on the office counter and the tall, lanky man put it up to his ear.

His voice was firm but polite at the same time, having some authority to it, “Bates Motel.”

It wasn’t much after that when the door of the office opened and a young man stepped into the room. Norman’s eyes widened. It couldn’t be. Was his eyes tricking him? 

“Connie, I’ll have to…call you back,” he said slowly before setting the phone back down on the table and stared at the teenager.

He was me.

“Sorry, I was just a bit startled. Welcome to the Bates Motel. A-are you looking for a room?”

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❛ And if I had the chance to do it again, I would. ❜

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@consequentson​​ liked for a one-liner.

❛ If I wanted to, I would have killed you already. ❜

“– Yeah, well. You have tried, actually. It’s… not all that reassuring.”