David…
***
She licked the blood off the knife, slowly and meaningfully, till it gleamed in the dusty orange spotlight. It tasted exhilaratingly sweet.
A sigh of satisfaction escaped from her plump red lips. Her wrath sated, she put on the kettle and made chamomile tea, humming as she went as the wretched girl stared back, slumped lifelessly across the kitchen table, the look of frozen horror forever imprinted on what used to be a beautiful, angelic face.
The shackles clanked as she tripped on the chains of the girl she had bounded her to while getting a cup from the wooden drawer.
She cursed and spat on her face.
A face, painstakingly and tenderly carved with a cleaver, criss crossing across her cheeks and forehead, like an artiste sweeping broad stroke after broad stroke onto a magnificent masterpiece.
She smiled with thinly concealed lust as she remembered the intoxicating high she had felt when her screams pierced her ears right from the very first cut-a singular long sleat running across her eyebrows right down to her chin.
The way her hands and legs thrashed to no avail on the iron shackles and cuffs that were bound onto her as she desperately tried to escape fed her animalistic lust.
With every slice on her perfect visage, the pain in her lifted a little, and she gnawed desperately on the pain reliever like a hungry dog to a bone, bringing the cleaver ever so deeply into the cheeks of the girl with every cut; feeling the euphoria in her core building up unbearably slowly as the girl screamed and begged her to stop, the blood spreading slowly across the table, onto her hands and blouse, splattering across the marbled floor.
The wretched girl’s screams finally brought her to a climax. Slashing her throat in one swift stroke, she ripped off her clothes and had her way with her, right there and then on the kitchen table. She stared into her clear glossy eyes that were dimming out of its light as she throbbed with sinful pleasure.
And all too quickly, it was quiet again. A petal fell slowly from the roses on the mantelpiece into the pool of blood on the floor. The cat sinking its claws onto the mice under the moonlight tonight outside her pavement wouldn’t be the only one to have finally caught her prey. And eat it whole.
