| �Hush, my love,� he whispered softly as he gently held her
heart. With the anesthetic, she didn�t feel her chest gaping open. But she was awake. He brushed her hair back and closed her eyes so she�d not see the knife cutting it open. But she heard the squesh. And she tasted the blood. But she didn�t know because she couldn�t remember. �Something,� she thought, �is not quite-� �I love you.� He purrs and pours it into her ear. He bathes her delicate body in her own blood and tells her this is what lovers do. Like a macabre sacrament of her lifeblood, holy oils he anoints her head to toe. A hungry caress of her breasts. Crimson kisses on her neck. And just before he consumes her, he trickles down her stomach. a trickle from her eye All is lost. and he plunges and she plunges into despair and he thinks, �She is mine,� what they both knew was coming. He wanted it. He could have stopped it. She didn�t and she couldn�t. A moment more- Her heart stops. And she is released. Her soul is free. But he traps her And will not let it be. He lives on. And he haunts her dead heart from afar. |