Fragmented: a fictional piece inspired by a certain Mr.W

The writing below is a fictional short story, but contains explicit content. I would advise that if you are easily offended that you do not read this. I almost feel annoyed because I have to explain myself for publishing creative writing just because it is about desires and the distorted beliefs of a man, but the internet is too full of people trying to be politically correct that really it’s political correctness gone mad.


Oli always found it difficult to control his thoughts. He was proud of his openness and honesty, and his humour knew no boundaries but that often got him into trouble.

He wasn’t one to start arguments or fights, neither would he say things to aggravate people just because he found it entertaining, but there was a part of his that he wasn’t sure about.

“What the fuck are you looking at,” he thought to himself. He hated it when people just stared at him, when women eyed him up and down. There was a part of him more sinister than money and filthier than whores. There was a part of him that wanted to hurt someone – to inflict pain, both physical and psychological.

“Bitch. Bitch. I’ll show you the truth. I’ll give you what you deserve,” he murmured under his breath.

The woman sat opposite of him had this look about her – elegant; small and delicate facial features were perfectly placed on her face. Her eyes stared into the distance and she had an air of arrogance, of disdain. The train was not good enough for her; the world was not good enough for her; he was not good enough for her. Her golden earrings, her long, brown and silky hair, her slender thighs, her luscious lips…all calling out to him.

“She was asking for it.”

She had this look about her that disgusted Oli so much it infuriated him. He wanted to push her over onto the blue, old, dirty seats, bend her over and fuck her. Make her do as he said and make her scream.

He often wondered what people would think of him when they walked past him on the streets, or saw him in a restaurant, a bus, a station, or even a bookstore. When he was alone he didn’t have to please anyone. He could just let loose. Society expects and molds us into orderly creatures, all caked with a facade of self-control, intellect and decency but underneath we’re all hungry wolves, gargoyles, monsters, waiting to satiate.

One thought on “Fragmented: a fictional piece inspired by a certain Mr.W

  1. […] This is another piece of the puzzle that will hopefully one day be a part of my short story. I’m still really new at this writing thing and am constantly thinking about how I can build my characters and the story, so if you’ve got any thoughts, comments or tips please feel free to let me know! If you haven’t read the first bit, you can read it here. […]


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