Her fist hits so hard his teeth fly, blood dancing a sweet dance among numerous air particles.
The punching bag no longer a challenge, she bites her lips of excitement, the release of rage is incredible.
She wants it to end classic and raw, the area around her knuckles numb, she tightens her grip around his neck, grasping harder in the eppiglotus area, to be sure it is quick and fierce.
She lets her bottom lip slightly moisten his, her eyes defined by the recently purchased eye liner.
She wants him to see her eyes, to see through them, to see all the way into her brain, to see the nerves fluttering of adrenaline.
Many hours of relentless planning have been sacrificed for this one moment, the need for power?
The hate for previous events?
Perhaps, sexual fantasy?
No.
This picture has a much larger frame.
This was not easy, sweat drips from her forhead, woman against man is never an easy task. But a possible one, in the least.
Not expecting such adrenaline, she is surprised, yet not impressed, this is not as simple as it may seem, a mere taking of a life, this is incomprehensible by many.
The victim? For the sake of sincerity, all that you shall know are his last words:
“I did not want to hurt all those children, it was just something inside me I could not stop.”
Smirking in delight, she lays his lifeless body slightly to the left of the original spot.
For her first victim, she has made many sacrifices.
Buying an old oil lamp from the the thrift store, and placing it strategically next to a couple of very old books that are sure to inflame easily, she pulls out his teeth, they are the only thing that may survive the fire.
She places them in her latest cake recipe, dental delight a la’ lust.
She will take it next door to her neighbor, whom is not allowed to eat food that contains sugar, in this way, she can be sure he will not indulge in it right away.
The news report will sound much like this:
“A house in the east side of town has burned down after an oil lamp was left unattended to, the young woman living there was left unharmed, luckily visiting her neighbor when the fire began. The firefighters have declared that nothing was able to be salvaged. “
What happens next will determine everything, the disposal of the event was easy, the continuance will be the challenge.
A trip to the ocean is needed, and that is not for seashell hunting.
Lust really has taken a…I’m hesitant to say weird, but a interesting turn from where I thought it might go after reading the first one. But I suppose that is the sign of a good writer. And you seem to be a good writer.
I’m disappointed she is not going to the ocean to hunt seashells. And I have never heard it referred to as hunting seashells. Can you hunt something that can’t run?
that is the exact metaphor, she will hunt something that cannot run.
and i am glad you think i am a good writer, it makes me smile.
<< see? im smiling.