Beauty
The room was dark. From the moonlight streaming in from the window, you could see the shapes of a bed, a chair, a desk, the corner of the wall, the flat planes of the hardwood floor.
The shape of a body, twisted on the bed between sheets. She was beautiful, with an oval shaped face and the perfect pout. Had her eyes been open, they would have been a brilliant shade of blue, and evenly set in her face.
She slept without interruption. She never heard the door slowly open, a resounding creak of the hinges. A shadow fell over her, blocking out the moonlight. Cutting her off from the window. The heavy figure sat slowly on the edge of the bed, running his fingers softly through her dark hair, entangling them gently.
Suddenly, the serenity of the moment changed and he gripped her hair sharply in his fist, and she awoke. He placed his left hand on her mouth before she could scream and she looked up into his face, her chest heaving.
He smiled down at her, a ridiculous snarl. Her eyes widened in her terror and she tried to pull her body up away from his. He smiled and released her hair, dragging his fingers down her side to grasp her hip, pulling her solidly down to lay flat on the bed.
He turned her, shoving her face into the pillow, grabbing the back of her neck and pushing her down. She struggled only for a moment, with all her air shut off, she passed out. He slowly undressed while watching her limp body, covered so softly in its satin and lace.
He slipped slowly underneath the blankets, pulling her body into the curve of his, holding her tightly, her face against his neck. He smiled at her, her lax expression, her unconsciousness. He slowly bit the side of her neck, brushing aside a lock of her hair.
He whispered to her. Softly. "You're beautiful, my love." He smiled again and reaching for his knife, laying in the floor beside his pants. He trailed the blade slowly down her cheek to the hollow of her throat.
"If I can't have you..then no one can." He choked back a sob before he pushed the blade in, a sick wet sound of tissue tearing. Her eyes jerked open and she gasped as best she could.
Her eyes stared at him, wide and wet with uncried tears. She drew a final breath and she grew limp again. He smiled, her blood rushing onto the sheets, his arm, his chest.
He kissed her neck, the blood running into his mouth. "I love you, honey." He took the blade tightly in his fist and slid it quickly across the throbbing vein in his neck. He began to bled and tears streamed down his face. He shoved the blade in. As he died, he tightened his fingers around her wrist.
If he can't have her, than no one can.
The shape of a body, twisted on the bed between sheets. She was beautiful, with an oval shaped face and the perfect pout. Had her eyes been open, they would have been a brilliant shade of blue, and evenly set in her face.
She slept without interruption. She never heard the door slowly open, a resounding creak of the hinges. A shadow fell over her, blocking out the moonlight. Cutting her off from the window. The heavy figure sat slowly on the edge of the bed, running his fingers softly through her dark hair, entangling them gently.
Suddenly, the serenity of the moment changed and he gripped her hair sharply in his fist, and she awoke. He placed his left hand on her mouth before she could scream and she looked up into his face, her chest heaving.
He smiled down at her, a ridiculous snarl. Her eyes widened in her terror and she tried to pull her body up away from his. He smiled and released her hair, dragging his fingers down her side to grasp her hip, pulling her solidly down to lay flat on the bed.
He turned her, shoving her face into the pillow, grabbing the back of her neck and pushing her down. She struggled only for a moment, with all her air shut off, she passed out. He slowly undressed while watching her limp body, covered so softly in its satin and lace.
He slipped slowly underneath the blankets, pulling her body into the curve of his, holding her tightly, her face against his neck. He smiled at her, her lax expression, her unconsciousness. He slowly bit the side of her neck, brushing aside a lock of her hair.
He whispered to her. Softly. "You're beautiful, my love." He smiled again and reaching for his knife, laying in the floor beside his pants. He trailed the blade slowly down her cheek to the hollow of her throat.
"If I can't have you..then no one can." He choked back a sob before he pushed the blade in, a sick wet sound of tissue tearing. Her eyes jerked open and she gasped as best she could.
Her eyes stared at him, wide and wet with uncried tears. She drew a final breath and she grew limp again. He smiled, her blood rushing onto the sheets, his arm, his chest.
He kissed her neck, the blood running into his mouth. "I love you, honey." He took the blade tightly in his fist and slid it quickly across the throbbing vein in his neck. He began to bled and tears streamed down his face. He shoved the blade in. As he died, he tightened his fingers around her wrist.
If he can't have her, than no one can.