Severe Intentions of Jonathan Grave

Step inside the mind of Jonathan Grave. He was born in a very dull day. Son of an alcoholic father, never felt the hands of his mother. No one can recall anything extraordinary about his presense during his childhood and young adult days.An invisible being breathing amongst people. It will appear to be hard to believe in such a story but indeed some woman tried to sit down at that bus to Birmingham from London which is of course very natural to have a seat but Jonathan was already sitting in that particular seat. He was invisible to the bone. Anyway, everything has changed. The way he was, the appeareance he had, the words he spoke, the path he chose; everything…

The Thursday came in a sunny mood. His window was open and the rays of sunlight woke him up like a lover. He stood in front of the bathroom mirror after a hot shower. The face was neat and sharp. The face was smooth like silk. The face was clever and charming. He gazed, tried to figure out this new guy. The muscles joined the scene. The shoulders and that stomach puzzled his mind. And the uneaten finger nails made him think that his soul was captured by another body. A real misery for an accountant , living zero adventure..

The wardrope was full of elegant and expensive suits. He wore Brioni Vanquish II, looked sharp as a knife in that soft and light tailoring. He put on leather derby brogues by Burberry, the best workhorse shoes. Final comb motion and there he was ready to face the world.

He wanted to take his ordinary watch which his grandad gave him in his sixteenth birthday. It was his custom behaviour to take off the watch and leave it on the kitchen counter. The door of the kitchen was moving back and forth. Creepy feelings covered his body as the dark liquid struck his sight. Tip toe to his kitchen and he found out… It was the watch laying on the floor, bleeding to death violantly. The watch cried his name, called him a murderer. All the time was devoured…

Psychology of the Devil

Bitter sweet sounds tickles his ears. If he turns right, hypocracy conquers; if he turns left, misery reveals. What if he was just a seeker to find rare evil deeds. No sunshine in his mind, all day wandering around. Indeed the soil is possessed by many dark souls to ruin another day. The white angelic masks tricks him sometimes. All the good will diminished in intensity thoughout these grounds. Oh poor seeker, you never had to seek, still running from one to another. You pray the young ones don’t grow soon. Just in them, you skip.