Thy Bed of Crimson Joy {2/3}afterandalasiaJanuary 1 2014, 23:45:44 UTC
They had been running for several weeks, Aurora growing slowly fainter and more distant again, when Nakoma finally asked the question she had been half-fearing all of the time.
"You want to kill someone again, don't you?"
Aurora traced patterns in the condensation on the window, and didn't look round. "I need to. And there are plenty who deserve it."
Remembering Kocoum, Nakoma could not bring herself to argue. She could only feel relieved that he was gone. "We'll find someone," she promised.
Aurora wore Tyvek overshoes, and two pairs of latex gloves to stop her fingerprints from being discovered. They had found the man on the seediest edge of the red light district in some city so unimportant that they didn't even both to look at the name. With her hair up and too much make-up on, Nakoma had looked like an underage prostitute, and as the man made his crawling offers she felt disgust flood through her. He wanted to fuck a child for money, then walk back to his life with the stain invisible to all.
One popper beneath his nose and his eyes rolled back in his head. They used his car to take him down to the river, and as he started to come round with his hands tied together and his feet bare he sobbed and begged and pleaded for his life.
Aurora forced him to his knees, looking out over the water, and slit his throat in one flashing movement. The blood poured down into the river, black in the darkness, and she slit open his limbs and torso to stop him from floating to the surface before sending him down to the bottom of the river.
It should have been horrifying. It should have been terrible, with Aurora saying nothing and the man begging, but Nakoma watched and felt nothing and was simply relieved when he stopped his damn whimpering. Then Aurora looked round, her eyes alive for the first time that Nakoma had ever seen them, and she smiled with blood-red lips.
They left the car to burn, using the gloves and overshoes and Aurora's bloody cardigan as the wick to light the fuel tank, and drove on again. Aurora sang all night, songs from golden-age musicals, until the city was far behind them and they parked up in some wooded area, the keys still in the ignition as Aurora climbed across into Nakoma's lip and kissed her furiously, passionately, her touch finally warm.
She loved her, but never said the words. She wasn't sure whether she feared hearing them, or feared not hearing them, in return.
"You should try it," whispered Aurora in her ear. Nakoma pulled back, panting; they were still in the driver's seat, clothes torn away, Aurora's hand between Nakoma's thighs as she straddled her. Aurora's fingers did not still their clever work, their teasing touches.
Nakoma blinked away sweat and tears. "Can you feel it?" Her voice was husky with desire, but she kept her gaze strong. Aurora never seemed to blink. "Is there... something there?"
"There's everything," Aurora replied, the words half a moan, her lips silk against Nakoma's cheek. Her breath was warm and sweet and smelt just slightly of blood. "You feel alive."
They had been running for several weeks, Aurora growing slowly fainter and more distant again, when Nakoma finally asked the question she had been half-fearing all of the time.
"You want to kill someone again, don't you?"
Aurora traced patterns in the condensation on the window, and didn't look round. "I need to. And there are plenty who deserve it."
Remembering Kocoum, Nakoma could not bring herself to argue. She could only feel relieved that he was gone. "We'll find someone," she promised.
Aurora wore Tyvek overshoes, and two pairs of latex gloves to stop her fingerprints from being discovered. They had found the man on the seediest edge of the red light district in some city so unimportant that they didn't even both to look at the name. With her hair up and too much make-up on, Nakoma had looked like an underage prostitute, and as the man made his crawling offers she felt disgust flood through her. He wanted to fuck a child for money, then walk back to his life with the stain invisible to all.
One popper beneath his nose and his eyes rolled back in his head. They used his car to take him down to the river, and as he started to come round with his hands tied together and his feet bare he sobbed and begged and pleaded for his life.
Aurora forced him to his knees, looking out over the water, and slit his throat in one flashing movement. The blood poured down into the river, black in the darkness, and she slit open his limbs and torso to stop him from floating to the surface before sending him down to the bottom of the river.
It should have been horrifying. It should have been terrible, with Aurora saying nothing and the man begging, but Nakoma watched and felt nothing and was simply relieved when he stopped his damn whimpering. Then Aurora looked round, her eyes alive for the first time that Nakoma had ever seen them, and she smiled with blood-red lips.
They left the car to burn, using the gloves and overshoes and Aurora's bloody cardigan as the wick to light the fuel tank, and drove on again. Aurora sang all night, songs from golden-age musicals, until the city was far behind them and they parked up in some wooded area, the keys still in the ignition as Aurora climbed across into Nakoma's lip and kissed her furiously, passionately, her touch finally warm.
She loved her, but never said the words. She wasn't sure whether she feared hearing them, or feared not hearing them, in return.
"You should try it," whispered Aurora in her ear. Nakoma pulled back, panting; they were still in the driver's seat, clothes torn away, Aurora's hand between Nakoma's thighs as she straddled her. Aurora's fingers did not still their clever work, their teasing touches.
Nakoma blinked away sweat and tears. "Can you feel it?" Her voice was husky with desire, but she kept her gaze strong. Aurora never seemed to blink. "Is there... something there?"
"There's everything," Aurora replied, the words half a moan, her lips silk against Nakoma's cheek. Her breath was warm and sweet and smelt just slightly of blood. "You feel alive."
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