((This is kind of old, I wrote it a few years ago, it probably could use some work, but I like it))
With a soft gasp the young girl finishes with her play under the covers of her old blanket, she turns her flushed face towards the open window, letting the night air cool her, a tear rolls down her cheek as she gazes up at the moon. "If you're out there, I'm here, ready for you, please come." It's a whispered plea she utters every night before turning over and falling to sleep, her book about the handsome lonely vampire falls to the floor, worn from the many times it's been read.
In the backyard a dark shape emerges from the bushes, a grin spreads over his lips, fangs dip over the bottom. "It's just too easy" He whispers to himself as he moves to the open window of some deluded young girl, her wishes are soon to come true. He slips into the room, happy to find no screen to remove, quietly he moves to end of the bed and takes in the heady scent of a female recently pleasured, he licks his lips wolfishly and does something he would never have dreamed of 20 years ago, he places his hands on either side of the girl's feet, then slowly crawls onto the bed, looking down at her young frame, she wakes with a start, gasping she looks up into his heart breaking handsome face, fear soon slips away and is replaced with joy.
"You came!" He tries to not to laugh and only nods "You heard my cries, I...I wish..to be yours..to.." She blushes deeply and lays back, letting her hair fall away from her neck "become yours...forever"
He takes in deep breath and smells the blood rising to her skin, with a low voice he growls down to her "So, you offer yourself to me? You are willing to live with the consequences?" He knows the books well, this line rehearsed almost nightly, so many girls just like this, with their romantic ideas, too easy.
She blushes deeper, nipping her lower lip she lifts her chin slightly and nods "I would be good for you, you could enjoy me every night for all time"
He licks at his fangs and smiles as she shudders at the sight "Very well my little morsel" He lowers his head, the tip of his tongue roams over her chin back to her ear, she moans deeply and arches herself up to him, a timid hand lifts and touches his chest lightly, her eyes close, his hand moves up the curves of her trembling body, hardly 16 and yet so ready to offer herself to death, he would almost feel sorry for her, if she didn't smell so delicious. His fingers curl into her long raven hair and pulls her head to the side, the tips of his fangs drag over the tender flesh of her throat, she lets out a moan, her hips rising up, thinking that she knows what will come next, unfortunately for her death has other ideas, ignoring the soft push of her virginal body he sinks his fangs into her neck, there is a gasp of pain as two needles bury deep into her, then she is gone into dreaming, he drinks deeply of his willing victim, draining all of her sweet post orgasm blood. Once finished he licks the wounds closed and lets the husk of the girl fall back onto the bed, he grins "Well, you got what you wished for" He chuckles to himself as he pulls out a razor blade and slashes at her wrists, then pulls out a vile of pig's blood, poring it over her wrists and hands, then over the side of the bed, drenching the book and allowing the rest to sink into the carpet.
Minutes later he is walking back towards the street, grinning darkly, using his finger nail he flicks a bit of his meal from his teeth, then utters to the night "It's just too easy"
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Friday, December 9, 2011
Capter 1
((Still working on a title))
Nate woke with a start; he had dozed off on the couch waiting to surprise his wife with a romantic night, by way of apologizing for yelling at her the night before. Honestly, he isn’t even sure why he got so mad at her, she needed to buy a new pair of shoes, her others were worn. He supposes it has everything to do with the fact that he had lost his job weeks ago, and he’s sure he won’t find another anytime soon. He sighs and glances about, confused for a moment as to what scared him, and then he remembers the sound of screeching tires and a harsh crunch of metal coming from the street just down the block.
Nate looks down at his watch with a frown, she should have been home by now. He looks out the window and glances down the street to see the car accident, a black SUV seems to have ran the red light and T-Boned a red Sedan, it looks almost harmless and he stands, backing away to grab his phone to dial her. Two rings in he hears a woman scream from outside and a cold feeling strikes him, he hears words, and feels a sting of pure fear in his chest, “No, NO! I’ve killed someone!” He drops the phone and looks back out the window, confused, sick, and scared, he doesn’t see anything, for a crowd is starting to gather, not so much around the struck cars, but between them, “The poor baby!” Another older woman calls. He’s out the door in moments and running as fast as his feet will carry him.
The crowd pushes and some try to push away others from joining, as the group presses in and becomes far too packed, Nate fights, he pushes people out of the way, yelling at others to move, and then he sees it, the shopping bag with the shoe store logo printed on it. His mouth goes dry and he feels his knees give, her motorcycle lays under the red car, crunched and destroyed. Tears spring to his eyes, he feels himself lift up, and he starts to scream incoherently, “Cynthia! Oh god, please no, Cynthia, please” His voice breaks as he finally beats his way through the wall of people.
There she lays, but it’s not her, it can’t be her, it doesn’t look like her, but then it does, Nate feels his stomach clench and threaten to expel his lunch. This bloodied mess is his wife, limbs splayed, broken, body punctured and bashed, bloody, her blue eyes stare glassily under the car. He reaches for her hand just as someone pulls him away, there is yelling, but Nate doesn’t comprehend, he sees flashing lights, and someone is wrapping a blanket about his shoulders, asking him questions, trying to figure out what happened, but he can’t, he doesn’t know. She’s gone.
***
She was making a left turn, almost home, to a man she was quite ready to give a piece of her mind to, and good news. Cynthia grins to herself as she starts to make the turn, hardly noting the red car beside her. She just got a job; Nate is going to be so proud. That was the last thought to run through her mind when suddenly her world is a mass of pain, she looks to see a large SUV scream through the red light and pins her into the side of the red car, all goes black, she is thankfully saved from most of the pain.
Cynthia hears, but does not see, nor does she feel, but she hears the screams of people she doesn’t know, cries of remorse, she tries to speak, to tell them not to worry, there is no pain, she has always hated when others were upset around her, she always wanted to make them happy, though now she finds it difficult, not being able to see them and all. She sighs, this is no good, maybe she’s paralyzed, perhaps this is why she’s not able to see anyone, or able to speak out. She hears her name; a man is screaming for her, it’s…Nathan. Her eyes fly open at the horrible sound of his screams. She sees now, sees the group of people, all of them looking quite disturbed, all of them looking down, some sobbing, watching someone. She pushes through, or they seem to move, a woman adjusts her feet, giving Cynthia just enough room to pass around her, a man turns his back to her to hug his wife, again allowing her to pass by unhindered, and so she passes through the throng.
For a minute Cynthia isn’t sure of what she’s seeing, Nate is bent over something, it’s quite bloody, maybe a hit dog? She moves around and sees the tire of her bike sticking from under the car; she frowns and tilts her head, then looks down at the thing that her husband is sobbing over. A woman, broken and quite dead by the looks of her. Cynthia leans down “Nate, who is it?” He doesn’t hear her, angry, she reaches out to touch him on the shoulder, it is just then that an EMT is pulling the sobbing figure of her husband away. She stands and yells to them, “Excuse me! I was talking to my husband…Hey! Hellooooo!” she reaches out again, trying to poke at the man, but he leans down over the dead woman and lets out a small sound of disgust. She looks down again and really gets a good look at the woman on the street, she notes the blonde hair held back in a ponytail, the leather jacket, the dark blue jeans, the stark blue eyes just before the EMT reaches out and gently closes the lids.
She gasps as realization hits her. That woman is, was, her. Her breath catches in her throat as she screams; she is shaken to the very core. Dead? How can she be dead now? She feels cold, so very very cold, she backs out of the crowd of people, each one moving just in time to avoid touching her. She runs for Nate, but she finds that there is some kind of barrier, something that prevents her from getting too close to him, all she can do is watch as the EMTs tend to him, trying to get information out of him, trying to calm him, she screams for him, in need of his warm arms. She fights against the invisible shield, but to no avail.
As she stands there, sobbing and wailing, fighting against the veil that keeps her from Nate, she finally notices that everything seems to be going dark, she stops beating against the bubble and backs away, looking about her. A sense of dread fills her heart, like a rabbit suddenly aware of a cat well hidden in bushes, she looks about wildly.
Black snake-like things skitter across the pavement, they pay Cynthia little mind, it’s the humans they’re after. Despite her fear, Cynthia can’t help but to watch as these things slither up legs and climb up the bodies of everyone present. She frowns as she watches the things bury into the chests of every person, she winces, it looks like it should be painful, but no one notices. Several attached themselves to Nathan, and that’s when she screams out and reaches for the thin black tails, she expects her hand to pass through, but instead it grips quite firmly to the wriggling tail, she yanks the thing from her husband, it turns on her, as if to look at her, though the thing has no eyes, it opens a large mouth and squeals painfully, she drops it to cover her ears, and it takes her a moment to realize, those that haven’t found a body to latch onto are turned to her, snarling, wriggling, and coming towards her.
She screams and turns to run, the beasts jump out for her, latching onto her spiritual form, black fangs rip into her, tearing out small bites of her legs, she stumbles and falls, screaming in pain, she reaches out to the curb as if to pull herself up, she looks back to see more coming for her, coming to eat her soul. Suddenly a hand grips hers and pulls her up to her feet, she gasps as she looks up to see a woman with short spikey hair, she grins to Cynthia, “Hi, I’m Louie…Run!” and with a great pull and a loud peel of laughter, she hauls Cynthia away to safety.
The Beast
Libby slammed her car door after slipping in. She doesn’t move for a minute, just stares at the steering wheel, confusion swarms her mind, she isn’t sure what just happened. Mr. Lynn had asked her into the office, locked the door behind her and proceeded to attempt to seduce her. She was so shocked, she had no idea. He made her feel so dirty, those hands slipping over her breasts, she felt herself gag and pushed him away. Tears well up in Libby’s eyes as she recounts the events, turning to slap him, with hurt pride he screamed at her, told her to leave, that she was fired.
She buries her face into her hands as she sobs softly. Libby was only 19, this was her first real job outside of high school, she had heard that this happened sometimes, but she never thought Mr. Lynn was one of THOSE kind of bosses. After a few minutes the crying subsides, she feels a great anger rise up, her dainty hands grip tightly at the steering wheel, her eyes narrow, lips press into a thin line. Well, if this is how he wanted to play, she was going to just get a lawyer, that’s right, she’ll sue the hell out of this Realty.
With a sense of strength, and determination the pretty little red head sets out for home, plans for taking this place down fill her head, a dark smirk plays on her lips. Though everything is halted when she stops at a cross walk, her heart melts as she and the other car on the road watches a mother duck waddle her 8 ducklings across the road, the mother squawking at the cars as if threatening the large, noise monsters to keep away from her children.
Libby chuckles softly, her greenish blue eyes look at her neighboring car, the small bespectacled man looks back at her, a joyful look lights his eyes. She turns back, most of the ducks have made it over the curb when she sees it, a car rushing forward, in the lane with the small ducklings, and it’s not stopping, fear grips her throat, no…not here, she can’t see this! The old car seems to speed up, as if wanting to crush the poor babies, she screams as the punker’s car flies by and creams two of the precious ducklings, the man beside her had been honking his horn, impotent anger flushes his face.
Pure rage fills Libby, causing the world to slow down, she sees everything in a shade of red, her lips pull back in a sneer as she gets out of her car, takes her phone and chucks it with all her might to the old murderous car that had slowed to turn into the store‘s parking lot, the phone smashes into the back window. The car screeches to a stop, the spiked head in the driver’s seat looks back, the man screams, puts his car in reveres and stops just short of smashing into the front of Libby’s car “You crazy fucking Bitch! I’m gunna fucking kill you!” The man, covered in tattoos, and harsh looking piercing covering his face, 2” gages in his ears, steps out, tall as a tree, and purely terrifying, at least for the man in glasses.
Libby stands her ground as the punk stomps towards her, the man in glasses has his phone out and is calling the police, though he doesn’t dare get out, the crazy redhead hit the scary guys car, not him. Libby growls deep down in her chest, rage filling her the more verbal abuse the large man throws at her. His hand reaches out and grabs her by the forearm, pulling her to his car to show her the damage that she will most definitely, fucking pay for, maybe she can just suck his cock as payment.
That is when Libby loses it, she sees crimson and hears nothing but noise, she feels a sudden craving for pain, ripped flesh, and splattered blood. She wants to hear him scream like she would want a drink of water after hiking around in the desert for hours. He stops yelling as he notices a change in the way she stands, she seems bigger, stronger, he backs away a bit, frowning, “You’re losing your fucking mind..”
Dainty hands reach out and grab the punk’s earlobes, using the gages as handles, she pulls him down and slams his face into the edge of his car, the spindly man falls to the street, his nose broken, blood spurts, he screams and covers his face, a dark smirk touches Libby’s lips, the world around her goes dark, even the hot sun seems to dim as all she feels is cold rage.
Hands curl into claws, bones snap and reform as her small frame takes on a much larger bestial frame, she resembles an 8 foot wolf on two legs, her body covered in silky auburn hair. The large monster howls before she grabs up the now small man, his screams rise, too shocked to try to fight back.
The maw of the beast snarls, long claws stab into the man’s throat, he is greeted with a mouthful of sharp teeth, they rip at his face, bite down and tear away flesh. Her first taste of blood sends her deeper into a frenzied rage. Another howl rips through the air, scattering what few midday shoppers that had gathered, they run, screaming, half mad, their puny mortal minds unable to deal with what they are seeing, some just cower in the near by bushes, staring at the carnage with unbelieving eyes.
The young man’s husk is tossed to the ground, ripped, bloody, much of his flesh and muscle now in the beast’s belly, some dangling from her jaws.
Feral eyes look wildly about, her lust for flesh not yet sated with the skinny punk, the beast that was once Libby rushes into the super-market. Quick as lightning the bagger boy loses his head. The cashier, not fast enough to run, loses her throat before she can let out a scream. Further back, the beautiful beast descends upon the mothers, the retirees, those with the day off. Blood pores from once living beings, now missing limbs, and large chunks from their bodies.
The beast that was once Libby smashes through the store’s windows, by passing the police officers as if their once harsh gunfire is nothing more than spitballs. Her claws rip through bullet proof vests as if they were tissue paper, their bones crunching as rips out still pumping hearts, the hot blood drains down her large throat.
She runs, calling to the wild, to the mother, the beast that was once Libby, disappears into the forests of the mountains, howling and feasting on the soft flesh that comes her way…
She buries her face into her hands as she sobs softly. Libby was only 19, this was her first real job outside of high school, she had heard that this happened sometimes, but she never thought Mr. Lynn was one of THOSE kind of bosses. After a few minutes the crying subsides, she feels a great anger rise up, her dainty hands grip tightly at the steering wheel, her eyes narrow, lips press into a thin line. Well, if this is how he wanted to play, she was going to just get a lawyer, that’s right, she’ll sue the hell out of this Realty.
With a sense of strength, and determination the pretty little red head sets out for home, plans for taking this place down fill her head, a dark smirk plays on her lips. Though everything is halted when she stops at a cross walk, her heart melts as she and the other car on the road watches a mother duck waddle her 8 ducklings across the road, the mother squawking at the cars as if threatening the large, noise monsters to keep away from her children.
Libby chuckles softly, her greenish blue eyes look at her neighboring car, the small bespectacled man looks back at her, a joyful look lights his eyes. She turns back, most of the ducks have made it over the curb when she sees it, a car rushing forward, in the lane with the small ducklings, and it’s not stopping, fear grips her throat, no…not here, she can’t see this! The old car seems to speed up, as if wanting to crush the poor babies, she screams as the punker’s car flies by and creams two of the precious ducklings, the man beside her had been honking his horn, impotent anger flushes his face.
Pure rage fills Libby, causing the world to slow down, she sees everything in a shade of red, her lips pull back in a sneer as she gets out of her car, takes her phone and chucks it with all her might to the old murderous car that had slowed to turn into the store‘s parking lot, the phone smashes into the back window. The car screeches to a stop, the spiked head in the driver’s seat looks back, the man screams, puts his car in reveres and stops just short of smashing into the front of Libby’s car “You crazy fucking Bitch! I’m gunna fucking kill you!” The man, covered in tattoos, and harsh looking piercing covering his face, 2” gages in his ears, steps out, tall as a tree, and purely terrifying, at least for the man in glasses.
Libby stands her ground as the punk stomps towards her, the man in glasses has his phone out and is calling the police, though he doesn’t dare get out, the crazy redhead hit the scary guys car, not him. Libby growls deep down in her chest, rage filling her the more verbal abuse the large man throws at her. His hand reaches out and grabs her by the forearm, pulling her to his car to show her the damage that she will most definitely, fucking pay for, maybe she can just suck his cock as payment.
That is when Libby loses it, she sees crimson and hears nothing but noise, she feels a sudden craving for pain, ripped flesh, and splattered blood. She wants to hear him scream like she would want a drink of water after hiking around in the desert for hours. He stops yelling as he notices a change in the way she stands, she seems bigger, stronger, he backs away a bit, frowning, “You’re losing your fucking mind..”
Dainty hands reach out and grab the punk’s earlobes, using the gages as handles, she pulls him down and slams his face into the edge of his car, the spindly man falls to the street, his nose broken, blood spurts, he screams and covers his face, a dark smirk touches Libby’s lips, the world around her goes dark, even the hot sun seems to dim as all she feels is cold rage.
Hands curl into claws, bones snap and reform as her small frame takes on a much larger bestial frame, she resembles an 8 foot wolf on two legs, her body covered in silky auburn hair. The large monster howls before she grabs up the now small man, his screams rise, too shocked to try to fight back.
The maw of the beast snarls, long claws stab into the man’s throat, he is greeted with a mouthful of sharp teeth, they rip at his face, bite down and tear away flesh. Her first taste of blood sends her deeper into a frenzied rage. Another howl rips through the air, scattering what few midday shoppers that had gathered, they run, screaming, half mad, their puny mortal minds unable to deal with what they are seeing, some just cower in the near by bushes, staring at the carnage with unbelieving eyes.
The young man’s husk is tossed to the ground, ripped, bloody, much of his flesh and muscle now in the beast’s belly, some dangling from her jaws.
Feral eyes look wildly about, her lust for flesh not yet sated with the skinny punk, the beast that was once Libby rushes into the super-market. Quick as lightning the bagger boy loses his head. The cashier, not fast enough to run, loses her throat before she can let out a scream. Further back, the beautiful beast descends upon the mothers, the retirees, those with the day off. Blood pores from once living beings, now missing limbs, and large chunks from their bodies.
The beast that was once Libby smashes through the store’s windows, by passing the police officers as if their once harsh gunfire is nothing more than spitballs. Her claws rip through bullet proof vests as if they were tissue paper, their bones crunching as rips out still pumping hearts, the hot blood drains down her large throat.
She runs, calling to the wild, to the mother, the beast that was once Libby, disappears into the forests of the mountains, howling and feasting on the soft flesh that comes her way…
Nightly Routine
Jessica kisses her husband goodbye, though she frowns. He smiles down at her and just chuckles, shaking his head as he closes the door, what can he do? He knows that she hates it when he works these all night shifts, knows she doesn’t like being alone at night, and to be honest, he hated leaving her. After closing the door she makes her way up the stairs, cooing softly to Samson, her 5 year old blue point Siamese, the cat mewls to her and follows close behind as she prepares for bed. The fish are fed, lights turned off, she goes through her nightly routine, making little mental notes not to forget a thing. Soon she is standing in front of the mirror of her bathroom, brushing out her long brown hair, smiling at her pretty reflection, sometimes she wishes she didn’t have to wash this makeup off, it made her hazel eyes look so alluring. After pulling her hair back into a ponytail she starts the water, fills her cupped hands and almost splashes it on her face when her phone rings shrilly next to her ear, it makes her jump a bit, she blinks and looks down at the caller ID screen, her husband, funny, she wonders what he’s calling about, after turning off the water she quickly dries her hands and answers the phone, “Hey, what’s up?”
Mark responds in an uncertain voice “Oh, just calling to see if you’re okay”
She frowns a bit at her reflection “Why wouldn’t I be? I was just getting ready for bed”
He sighs a bit over the phone “I don’t know, just miss you I guess, but I’m at work now, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, I love you”
“Love you to” She frowns as she hangs up the phone, looks down at Samson and shrugs “Your daddy can be so weird sometimes.” She looks back into the mirror and smirks, she loves the look of her smirk, it’s so sexy. Turning on the water again she leans over, closing her eyes, she splashes her face. Samson’s ears prick as he hears something odd, being a cat he feels compelled to check this noise out, without even a glance to Jessica he’s up and lightly slipping down the stairs.
She hums softly as she starts to lather the soap over her eyes, she hears Samson hiss, hears him growl low and deep, it cuts short, she frowns “Samson? Baby, you okay?” She leans over to wash the soap from her eyes when she hears a rough low chuckle from right behind her.
She whirls around, her eyes open, for only a moment she sees the large, ugly face of a man standing in the hallway outside the bathroom door, then the horrible sting of the soap stabs into her eyes, she lets out a scream and turns to rinse the soap off. She gets as far as dipping her hands into the running water when a hard object cracks over the back of her head, she is forced forward, her mouth hits the faucet, breaking all of her front teeth and splitting her lips. Dazed, feeling nothing but pain, she falls to the floor, taking in a breath to try to scream out again, though the scream won’t come, she chokes on blood and shards of broken teeth, her hands rise, one to wipe at her eyes, the other moves to the throbbing pain of her head “No..” It’s all she can say before everything goes dark.
A moment later she wakes, eyes still sting, though tears have washed most of the soap out, she is able to look up as the large man looms over her, grinning like a fool, “Why?” She sobs miserably, blood dribbles over her chin, her head turns to the side so that she’s able to spit out what she can, her tongue darts about her mouth, feeling the awful damage, it makes her stomach quiver and threaten to up-heave her dinner.
He kneels down next to her and smirks, this smirk wasn’t cute, it wasn’t sexy in any way, it was ugly, full of hate and lust, it was more of a sneer. A large, callused hand moves over her outer thigh, he chuckles again, it reminded her of rocks rattling together. The hand moves to her inner thigh and forces her legs to open. She sobs softly “Please, oh, please don’t, please stop” He doesn’t seem to hear her pleas, A thick tongue moves over his thin lips as he looks down at her robed body, the wrench that he used to hit her is placed off to the side so that he can use both hands, prying her legs apart further, his grey eyes move up to look into her hers, he grins, ugly. She arches to scream again, tries to make her body move, it’s difficult, the wound on the back of her head makes her limbs feel like lead weights, after trying to scoot away he gives her another rocky chuckle and pinches at her tender flesh. She hates herself for the slight quiver she feels between her legs. His hands move to untie her robe, opens it, revealing her curvy, beautiful body, he licks his lips again and sits back to remove his shirt. When she thinks he’s distracted she covers her body back up, he seems to get caught in the long sleeved shirt, she looks down and tries to reach for the wrench, her finger tips touch it, with a great effort she pulls it towards her, it scrapes along the bathroom floor, it is the loudest sound in the world to her, and he throws his shirt off, scowling down at her, he grabs the tool away and lifts it, smashing her wrist against the floor, causing her to scream out, bone cracks, she screams and lifts her hand up to cradle it against her exposed chest, her other hand grips it “Shit, SHIT, NO!”
The awful hands return to her legs, up her thighs and moves right for her slit, he probes her inner depths while she sobs, her legs try to close, he pushes them away with a light slap of his hands, any time she looks as if she might fight he gives her a stern look, and she falls back meekly. He breaths in deep, taking in the scent of her blood, perfume, and fear. She takes time to look over him, his chest is splattered with acne and scars, his head is too big, shaved, and ugly, he looks like a goon in an old gangster movie. Soon his fingers move down, touching her anus, she cries out and shakes her dizzy head “No, not there, I beg you, please!” He smirks down at her, a hand moves to unzip his jeans, and he reaches in to take out his thick, hard, multi colored meat. It only takes a moment until she can smell the, horrible, rotted, diseased, unclean, penis. She gags and looks away, shaking her head; he is going to infect her with something. Her hatred grows.
He leans over and presses his tip against her hole, slicking it up and down, he lets out a low moan and lowers the head to her ass, she screams out, her good hand reaches down and scratches at the linoleum floor, he pushes hard into her. The pain is almost too much, he gives her no time to recover, grabbing onto her legs he leans over her, grunting, he slams into her relentlessly. She tries so hard to find a way out, if only mentally, softly, under her breath she starts to sing one of her favorite songs “We can be heroes…” He doesn’t seem to hear her, his hips continue to thrust, to grind and bash against her, calloused hands find her breasts, he grips and pulls, nails bite into skin.
He bends down and finally, for the first time that night he speaks, his voice as ugly and diseased as he is “You, you stupid little whore, you left the door unlocked, you did this to yourself. You wanted this”
She remembers now, the one thing she had missed on her list, she screams out and thrashes under him “NO NO NO! You mother, fu-“ She stops suddenly, her eyes go wide, mouth hangs open, a large knife now sticking into her lower stomach, she looks down, he is grinning, hips thrusting into her. Her body shivers hard, pain unimaginable rips through her. He grunts hard as he gives a few good thrusts, his yellow teeth grit together. Slowly, as an orgasm grips him, he shoves the knife down until it hits her spine, sharpened well, it slices up, through her intestines, blood spills from her lips, her face is pure agony, another sickening orgasm storms through him, so pretty, in so much pain. The blade cuts through her body like a hot knife through butter.
Minutes pass and the ugly man is gone, leaving two bodies for Mark to find in the morning.
Mark responds in an uncertain voice “Oh, just calling to see if you’re okay”
She frowns a bit at her reflection “Why wouldn’t I be? I was just getting ready for bed”
He sighs a bit over the phone “I don’t know, just miss you I guess, but I’m at work now, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, I love you”
“Love you to” She frowns as she hangs up the phone, looks down at Samson and shrugs “Your daddy can be so weird sometimes.” She looks back into the mirror and smirks, she loves the look of her smirk, it’s so sexy. Turning on the water again she leans over, closing her eyes, she splashes her face. Samson’s ears prick as he hears something odd, being a cat he feels compelled to check this noise out, without even a glance to Jessica he’s up and lightly slipping down the stairs.
She hums softly as she starts to lather the soap over her eyes, she hears Samson hiss, hears him growl low and deep, it cuts short, she frowns “Samson? Baby, you okay?” She leans over to wash the soap from her eyes when she hears a rough low chuckle from right behind her.
She whirls around, her eyes open, for only a moment she sees the large, ugly face of a man standing in the hallway outside the bathroom door, then the horrible sting of the soap stabs into her eyes, she lets out a scream and turns to rinse the soap off. She gets as far as dipping her hands into the running water when a hard object cracks over the back of her head, she is forced forward, her mouth hits the faucet, breaking all of her front teeth and splitting her lips. Dazed, feeling nothing but pain, she falls to the floor, taking in a breath to try to scream out again, though the scream won’t come, she chokes on blood and shards of broken teeth, her hands rise, one to wipe at her eyes, the other moves to the throbbing pain of her head “No..” It’s all she can say before everything goes dark.
A moment later she wakes, eyes still sting, though tears have washed most of the soap out, she is able to look up as the large man looms over her, grinning like a fool, “Why?” She sobs miserably, blood dribbles over her chin, her head turns to the side so that she’s able to spit out what she can, her tongue darts about her mouth, feeling the awful damage, it makes her stomach quiver and threaten to up-heave her dinner.
He kneels down next to her and smirks, this smirk wasn’t cute, it wasn’t sexy in any way, it was ugly, full of hate and lust, it was more of a sneer. A large, callused hand moves over her outer thigh, he chuckles again, it reminded her of rocks rattling together. The hand moves to her inner thigh and forces her legs to open. She sobs softly “Please, oh, please don’t, please stop” He doesn’t seem to hear her pleas, A thick tongue moves over his thin lips as he looks down at her robed body, the wrench that he used to hit her is placed off to the side so that he can use both hands, prying her legs apart further, his grey eyes move up to look into her hers, he grins, ugly. She arches to scream again, tries to make her body move, it’s difficult, the wound on the back of her head makes her limbs feel like lead weights, after trying to scoot away he gives her another rocky chuckle and pinches at her tender flesh. She hates herself for the slight quiver she feels between her legs. His hands move to untie her robe, opens it, revealing her curvy, beautiful body, he licks his lips again and sits back to remove his shirt. When she thinks he’s distracted she covers her body back up, he seems to get caught in the long sleeved shirt, she looks down and tries to reach for the wrench, her finger tips touch it, with a great effort she pulls it towards her, it scrapes along the bathroom floor, it is the loudest sound in the world to her, and he throws his shirt off, scowling down at her, he grabs the tool away and lifts it, smashing her wrist against the floor, causing her to scream out, bone cracks, she screams and lifts her hand up to cradle it against her exposed chest, her other hand grips it “Shit, SHIT, NO!”
The awful hands return to her legs, up her thighs and moves right for her slit, he probes her inner depths while she sobs, her legs try to close, he pushes them away with a light slap of his hands, any time she looks as if she might fight he gives her a stern look, and she falls back meekly. He breaths in deep, taking in the scent of her blood, perfume, and fear. She takes time to look over him, his chest is splattered with acne and scars, his head is too big, shaved, and ugly, he looks like a goon in an old gangster movie. Soon his fingers move down, touching her anus, she cries out and shakes her dizzy head “No, not there, I beg you, please!” He smirks down at her, a hand moves to unzip his jeans, and he reaches in to take out his thick, hard, multi colored meat. It only takes a moment until she can smell the, horrible, rotted, diseased, unclean, penis. She gags and looks away, shaking her head; he is going to infect her with something. Her hatred grows.
He leans over and presses his tip against her hole, slicking it up and down, he lets out a low moan and lowers the head to her ass, she screams out, her good hand reaches down and scratches at the linoleum floor, he pushes hard into her. The pain is almost too much, he gives her no time to recover, grabbing onto her legs he leans over her, grunting, he slams into her relentlessly. She tries so hard to find a way out, if only mentally, softly, under her breath she starts to sing one of her favorite songs “We can be heroes…” He doesn’t seem to hear her, his hips continue to thrust, to grind and bash against her, calloused hands find her breasts, he grips and pulls, nails bite into skin.
He bends down and finally, for the first time that night he speaks, his voice as ugly and diseased as he is “You, you stupid little whore, you left the door unlocked, you did this to yourself. You wanted this”
She remembers now, the one thing she had missed on her list, she screams out and thrashes under him “NO NO NO! You mother, fu-“ She stops suddenly, her eyes go wide, mouth hangs open, a large knife now sticking into her lower stomach, she looks down, he is grinning, hips thrusting into her. Her body shivers hard, pain unimaginable rips through her. He grunts hard as he gives a few good thrusts, his yellow teeth grit together. Slowly, as an orgasm grips him, he shoves the knife down until it hits her spine, sharpened well, it slices up, through her intestines, blood spills from her lips, her face is pure agony, another sickening orgasm storms through him, so pretty, in so much pain. The blade cuts through her body like a hot knife through butter.
Minutes pass and the ugly man is gone, leaving two bodies for Mark to find in the morning.
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