Category Archives: Horror

October 25, 2014

A Foul Day – Coffin Hop 2014 | #horror #COFFINHOP @coffinhop @Sotet_Angyal

A Foul Day

It moved! I swear on my mother’s soul I saw it move! Glancing up, I scan the faces surrounding the table trying to determine if anyone else saw the jerking motion. No one seems to have noticed; they’re all laughing and drinking, chattering away happily while waiting to be fed. I blink a few times to clear my eyes. I’ve been working too hard lately, putting in too many hours, that’s all. I raise the carving knife and fork, once more preparing to plunge them into the bird trussed before me. It fucking moved again! This time with an accompanying slopping sound. A bead of sweat breaks out on my upper lip; my wife is staring at me hesitantly. With both hands now resting on either side of the beast, I take a few slow, deep breaths to calm my overwrought nerves. A slight nudge comes from my right. It’s my wife, a strained smile on her face; she nods toward the foul creature. I nod back. Bringing the arm with the fork up, I dab at the dew above my lip and make an off-hand comment about it being roasting in here. Everyone laughs. A small shake of my head, I exhale and raise the knife once again to begin slicing the meat. As the gleaming instruments near the platter, I hear a voice in my head. ‘Go on ya piss-ant piece of shit – cut me open. Show everyone what a big man you are and gut me. Gut me like you gutted your wife when the doctor told her your sperm are useless. Ya didn’t have the balls to stick it to your wife and knock her up, and you don’t have the balls to stick it to me either!’

What the fuck? My knees nearly buckle and my wife reaches out to steady me. I jerk my arm away. The room has grown quiet, the tension nearly palpable. I toss out another remark meant as a joke; the responding chortle is terse, fraught with unease. My wife is no longer smiling; she looks worried. I try to reassure her with a smile of my own, but a bare shake of her head lets me know she’s not buying it. ‘Ya do know she doesn’t have any faith in you anymore, right? She was expecting to marry a man, and look what she got – you! She knows about Terry, too,’ I almost utter a response. ‘Yeah, she’s known for the past month that you’re banging that bitch from work, she just doesn’t want to ruin the holidays for the family. Your ass is out of here as soon as the new year starts, buddy!’

Sure that I’m pale as a ghost, I lean on the table for support once more. My head hanging, limbs trembling; the nervous tick of the fork tapping against a glass the only sound in the nearly silent room. My wife reaches over again and lays a hand on my forearm. I lash out to shove her away, forgetting that I’m holding the carving knife with that hand. We stare at one another in shock for a heartbeat before her body crashes forward into the china on the table; her throat sliced ever so neatly from side to side. As the crimson of her blood mixes with the pumpkin colored hue of the tablecloth, a slight gurgling is all that resounds. I look on in horrified disbelief, then one of the children in the room lets out a horrified screech. The demon starts again, ‘Ha! Look what you…’ I begin stabbing it with the fork and maniacally chopping it to bits with the blade while screaming incoherently. Everyone in the room is looking at me like I’ve gone insane. I try to explain about the turkey… not realizing I was still holding the knife… the pressure I’ve been under… but there isn’t a sympathetic eye in the small gathering. ‘You know what you have to do, don’t ya? If you don’t, they’ll lock you back up in the loony bin again.’ An icy cold sheet of acceptance washes over me as I move to the doorway, blocking my wife’s teenage brother from escaping.

I was really hoping this family would be different, not like the last…

Coffin Hop Goodies!

How do you get them? Comment on my Coffin Hop 2014 posts on this blog – I’m posting something new each day, so keep coming back for more chances to win. When will they be announced? When the hop ends (after October 31st). What are they going to be? A surprise! I like surprises, don’t you? ;}

Don’t forget to visit my other two blogs that are participating:
Spreading the Writer’s Word
The Road to Nowhere…

and the Sirens Call Publications blog:
The Sirens Song

Plus all the other amazing hoppers!
Coffin Hop

15 Comments | tags: A Foul Day, Coffin Hop 2014, CoffinHop, fiction, horror, Nina D'Arcangela, story, writing | posted in Author, Coffin Hop 2014, Flash Fiction, Horror, Story, twisted, Writing

October 24, 2014

Pop – Coffin Hop 2014 | #horror #COFFINHOP @coffinhop @Sotet_Angyal

By Nina D'Arcangela

Pop

With a growl that comes from deep within his chest, fury radiating from every pore of his being, he begins to froth. Using the chain wrapped around his arm and her throat, he raises her level with his eye. With the other hand, he snaps her right wrist between his forefinger and thumb. A slight groan escapes her before she can contain it. A smile begins to spread upon his face.

Cupping her ass with his free hand, he presses her body hard against his own, his want throbbing against her. He leans forward, whispers in her ear, “So you do feel. I’ve heard an angel is an extremely… erotic creature. Perhaps I have been going about your discipline all wrong.” He slowly licks her shoulder, her neck, the side of her face; he begins to boom with laughter – intent all too clear in his eyes.

She returns his slight smile as he runs a razor-sharp talon over her lips, tearing them to shreds. Blood begins to trickle down her chin; he laps it clean. She unfurls an obsidian wing; he stares at it in wanton lust. With lightning speed, she uses the tip to pluck his left eyeball from its socket. There is barely a moment of resistance as the muscles cling to the orbit before tearing away.

Screaming in agony, he releases her and she tumbles to the stone floor. Cupping his empty socket, he screams, “You whore!”

Lying on the floor, she begins laughing manically.

“You fucking whore! I’ll see you dead for this!”

Gently, she places the eyeball in her mouth, blood still oozing from her slashed lips. Through peals of laughter, she positions her new prize between her teeth. As he watches in horror, she smiles brightly and begins to chew.

Darting forward once more, her wing tip slams into his other eye with an audible pop, then carves it lengthwise with a single stroke. She leaves this orb in place to heal useless and deformed; a reminder of her for the days to come.

Rising to her feet, she walks toward the dais while flippantly asking, “You wish to see me dead, do you?” With a mirthless chuckle, she leans in and whispers, “I don’t think you’ll be seeing much of anything…”

Coffin Hop Goodies!

Don’t forget to visit my other two blogs that are participating:
Spreading the Writer’s Word
The Road to Nowhere…

and the Sirens Call Publications blog:
The Sirens Song

Plus all the other amazing hoppers!
Coffin Hop

27 Comments | tags: Coffin Hop 2014, CoffinHop, fiction, horror, Nina D'Arcangela, Pop, story, writing | posted in ADULT, Author, Coffin Hop 2014, Flash Fiction, Horror, Story, twisted, Writing

April 28, 2014

‘Xiphoid’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

Plunging the blade deep into the abdominal cavity, I drive it upward until I hit the xiphoid. Twisting slightly to my right, I skirt the sternum and slice through the costal cartilage attaching the ribs to the breast plate. Careful not to puncture the internal organs, I stop my upward motion at the manubrium. Drawing the sharpened metal along the topside of the upper-most rib, I listen to the harsh breathing. Returning to the original point of entry, I pause, then again thrust into and through the abdominal wall, swiftly separating the flesh and muscle from the body’s left side.

Laying the knife on the tray, I reach down and peel the cavity open with a great deal of force. A slight groan escapes amongst the pops and rending sounds as the connective tissue still in place rips away to reveal the fluttering heart. A marvelous thing the human body, a machine designed by the hand of a master; a fragile balance struck with a sadistic keeper.

Welcome to my April AtoZ Blog Challenge post! I hope you enjoyed my ramble, and come back for more! Don’t forget to visit the other bloggers participating by clicking on the badge to the right, or simply using this link. :}

13 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, flash fiction, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel, X, Xiphoid | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, pain, Writing

April 26, 2014

‘Water’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

You don’t know me; I’m something you’ve never seen before. You dare glance my way; enjoy the view from head to tail? Perhaps I should show you my tail, then you’d realize what little chance you have of escape. You think I have pretty eyes; crystalline and glistening – different hues of blue and green with a hint of amber shimmering in the sunlight? Should nature divine such a thing of its own? Your instincts tell you nay, but you engage none the less. Does their shifting tint lure you, are you enamored by the sparkle that holds your stare? Perhaps for you, it’s my hair; long, luxurious, the color of midnight gently twisting in the breeze. The kind of hair every man dreams his girl will have after he’s done fucking her; affirmation of a job well done. You think I wear it this way by choice? It’s not hair; it’s a brand, me the creature it was seared upon. I can no more shed it than water can choose to flow uphill. You’re reaching for it now, look at you; pathetic. Let me guess your thoughts: if only I could run my fingers though it just this once… It’s not your thought, it’s mine, placed in your head the moment I noticed you. You make me sick, the lot of you. Such easy pickings; such an eager feast laid before my kind.

6 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, flash fiction, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel, W, Water | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, darkness, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, muse, twisted, Writing

April 23, 2014

‘Twang’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

There was an audible twang. Turning back, he wrinkled his brow in disgust. Four! Four perfectly placed stitches had torn loose so far. He was baffled and more than a bit annoyed. Peering at the remainder of the skein, he examined it for defects; it looked perfectly fine. He wrapped a short length around his fingers and gave a hard tug. He received nothing but resistance for his effort. A bit perplexed, his fingers slipped between her lips to remove the defective stitch; he inspected it thoroughly with a loop before discarding it with the others.

Making his way to the old apothecary cabinet his grandfather had used many years ago, he opened each draw until he finally found what he was looking for. Cat gut! Sometimes the old fashioned way was the only way. Threading the much thicker needle with the coarse sinew, he again finished the sutures. He stood and stared in consternation for a good ten minutes willing them to stay fast yet daring them to break free. Finally satisfied, he turned to reach for the clay and began the final stages of reconstruction.

Two hours later, after finishing the cosmetic details, he gazed down upon the face he had just rebuilt and was pleased with his efforts. He’d done a fine job of covering the blemishes and abused areas. She looked peaceful, but the sedative would soon wear off. After a brief wait, a slight murmur reached his ears; one eye began to tear open. As his grandfather used to say, ‘death was just around the corner, one had to always be prepared,’ though he doubted his grandfather had meant it in quite the same way.

With a deep sigh, he inserted a trocar into her femoral vein to drain the body, then moved to insert another into her brachial artery to introduce the embalming fluid. The art of embalming was one so few had the opportunity to appreciate. Apparently, she was not in an appreciative mood.

8 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, flash fiction, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, T, The Dark Angel, Twang | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, pain, Writing

April 22, 2014

‘Sting’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

A brief but brutal spasm of pain shoots through her head followed by the gut wrenching memory of the last seeing. It draws her to her knees. The peace and serenity of the past now forever tainted. A flash through time, her mind reels; his eyes peer back into hers, the chalice is thrown, the fluid within betrays her trust. A warning forgotten, perhaps dismissed, arrogance assures her safety in this hallowed realm. Never has she been so wrong.

As she watches, the assailant approaches his target in the dark abandoned lot. A struggle ensues, but ends in a mere blink; the violence feeds her hunger, holds her in its thrall. She misjudges; allows the corridor to widen, permits him to see her watching. For a brief moment, the portal opens on both sides. She sits stunned as he jabs the narrow pig sticker through the wavering fluid and into her left eye.

Now, when it is a seeing night, she seeks only the most remorseful; souls in need of comfort and caring, not the heart-pounding excitement of an outcome unknown. Now, when it is a seeing night, she sees with only one eye – the other forever clouded and dead to the world. Knowing better, she no longer reaches for the vials containing drops of venom. Having learned her lesson well, the wasps’ sting will forever be with her – but always more so on a seeing night.

8 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, flash fiction, Nina D'Arcangela, S, Sotet Angyal, Sting, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, loss, muse, pain, Writing

April 16, 2014

‘Noise’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

Legs dangling from the tiny wooden foot bridge, the drift of the brook carries my feet afloat. The air is damp and heavy this evening with a cloying fog left behind by the rains.

On warm summer nights like this, I often sleep on the screened porch so that I can hear the rain drum on the tin roof, feel its spray through the mesh covering the windows. When the rain stops, I wander without shoe or sock in the damp meadow bordering our small parcel. Beyond the meadow lies the thinning perimeter of a forest; tall, young birch trees skirting the edge. A dirt path leads to the foot bridge, the feel of damp earth on my feet a texture I enjoy as much as the wet grass. Sitting on the bridge in my pajama shorts and tank top, damp hair clinging to my face, I let the current stroke my feet clean.

Hearing a faint noise, I turn but can barely see the handrail of the bridge itself, let alone any farther. I dismiss it as a curious animal emerging from its den after the downpour. I hear nothing further, but the small hairs on the back of my neck begin to rise. I turn again, expecting to find something or someone upon me. Again, nothing is there. I refuse to be spooked by my own imagination. After several minutes, I neither hear nor feel anything further.

Legs still dangling, I lay back and rest on the wooded planks of the bridge. The late hour, calming fog, and soothing water conspire to lull me to sleep. I wake – after how long, I don’t know, but I notice the forest is eerily quiet, unnaturally so.

Pushing to my elbows, I wipe a hand across my face to clear my own inner fog. I catch movement out of the corner of my eye. Whispering a tentative hello, I pull my legs up, but they don’t seem to want to work. Still focused in the direction of the movement, I reach down with my left hand to rub the feeling back into my limbs. I feel slick wood, slicker than it should be, but nothing else. Shocking paralysis grasps me by the throat; I go dead still, unable to move. Finally, my head obeys and pivots to look downward. Blood gushes from my severed knees, I stare in shock and disbelief, but still I feel no pain. Then I hear it, a growling that begins not from behind me, but from below me. I watch as it rises from the water and continues to grow in size. My voice once again finds me, and as I begin to scream; the low growl morphs to an enraged shriek.

8 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, flash fiction, N, Nina D'Arcangela, Noise, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, darkness, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, Writing

April 12, 2014

‘Kick’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

Slamming her head into the window, he hears it shatter with a resounding crack. “Look what you made me do? You think I’m made of money, huh?” She cringes as his boot comes up, landing in her gut. Gasping for air, spitting up blood and the remains of her meal, she reaches for a piece of the cracked glass; stumbling and unsteady. “What? You gonna stab me now? F’ing tramp!” She drops the sliver, tries to apologize, but the rage in his eyes is beyond reason. She curls in on herself to protect her already battered body. Instead of the expected kick, he slams his elbows down onto her bent neck. The crunch of bone is unmistakable.

12 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, flash fiction, K, Kick, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Flash Fiction, Horror, pain

April 11, 2014

‘Joke’ #AtoZChallenge

By Nina D'Arcangela

Hey :] I hope your hip is doing better, not hurting as

much as earlier. I worked until 10 tonight, grabbed

a quick bite and now I’m in bed reading. How’s your

night going? It’s the usual here – the house is dead

silent now. The doorbell was acting up earlier, so I

yelled at it to stop. It’s hasn’t chimed since. :] The

door to the green room kept shutting too, the cats

were growling at it, but they seem to have settled

down, so has the door… it always stops when the

front door –the one that doesn’t lock anymore –

when I hear it unlock, the knob turn, the door gently

shut, and the lock reengage. I know you don’t believe

me, but none of the other doors open with a skeleton

key, the sound is distinct. Anyway, the smell of smoke is

dissipating… the cigarette smoke, not the pipe tobacco.

The cherry scent is still hanging in the air, probably will

be until you get home. Sorry, I know I’m rambling, but

you know how I hate having to text you goodnight. No

blame –I know you didn’t pick the nightshift, but still…

Anyway, I guess I should say goodnight since that‘s why

I texted. Try to have a good one and I’ll see you in the

morn if I haven’t left by the time you get in. Night hun!

Love ya boo-boo-bear!! :]

Ahhh… I think you may have the wrong number…

Oh, I’m so sorry! I hope I didn’t wake you!

No, you didn’t wake me – I’m a night owl. I

know I’m not ‘boo-boo bear’,

but your message was a little odd.

Do you need help?

Help? No, well yes, but not the kind you mean anyway.

I’m so sorry to have disturbed you. I’m Trish, btw.

I’m no more disturbed now than before

your text. Get it, it’s a joke?

I got it – clever.

Is ‘boo-boo bear’ your boyfriend?

Yeah, we’ve been together for a few years now.

He works at the Budweiser plant near the airport.

Oh, so you work days, he wrks nights?

I’m Todd.

NTMY Todd. Something like that. Since we’re

talking, what are you doing up so late?

Watching a marathon on the Horror

network. They’re ramping up for the

latest FD film that’s coming out –lots

of slasher flicks on tonight.

No way! I love those movies. Which one are

you watching? No – wait, hang on… Sweet!

I love the scene where his

head gets sliced apart by the falling glass!

lol – you’re into horror/slasher flims?

Yeah, love ‘em.

So that stuff you were saying about your house,

is that some kind of joke?

Hmmm, joke? No, it really happens.

The place is haunted out the ass.

…uhhh…

Oh, gosh – I’m sorry, are you like,

born again or something?

lmfao – no, it’s not that – swear all you

want – it’s just kinda odd to get a

wrong text at three in the morning from a girl

living in a haunted house while

you’re watching horror movies,

don’t ya think? – lots of coincidence

there. lol

Mmmm, maybe. I don’t believe

in coincidence.

Okayyyyy… What do you call it then?

If shit is meant to happen, it does. Oh damn!

The elevator scene! Yesssss!

*squeals in delight*

TFF – weirdest ‘non-coincidence’ I’ve ever

had. Your number didn’t come up

on my phone – do you live near the airport?

Nope, about an hour north.

Me too! Where abouts?

I’m in Bergen.

So am I… maybe we can catch the premier

together?

Oh, dang! The pipe scene where it juts through his

head. Don’t you love it when they take the time

to trickle blood out the end. Sick!

Uhm, yeah – I do. And the gore stuck to the

front of the pipe is a nice touch. lol

So true – only armatures miss that part! Great film,

I’m kinda glad I miss ‘texted’ you. ;]

Yeah, me too. You never said what town

you’re in?

Town?

Yeah, where are you mis-texting me from? lol

I’m in Emerson :]

No friggin way… me too! How f’d up is that?

I know…

Right, completely wacked!

No, I mean I know you’re in Emerson.

How do you know that? lol –

did the house tell you?

*giggling* No, silly… turn around and look out

your window.

Oh, shit! You scared the crap out of me!

Come on, open the window before I fall off the

roof… and what is this crap about you taking

another girl to the premier?

…uhm…

Brian… Brian! I swear, if you don’t

open this window!

Whose boo-boo-bear?

Whaaaa? I mean, WTF?

Boo-boo-bear, who is he?

*pissed*

OMG -YGTBFKM – you know there is no boo-boo-bear!

It was a joke! You don’t believe me? UFR!

Seriously?!?

Maybe you better call boo-boo-bear before

you fall – those tiles are slick.

I know, I climbed up! *huff* …Brian! Brian!

………..

Brian! Brian? Brian…

18 Comments | tags: 2014 AtoZChallenge, Blog hop, flash fiction, J, Joke, Nina D'Arcangela, Sotet Angyal, The Dark Angel | posted in 2014 A to Z Blogging Challenge, Flash, Horror, muse, Quirky, Writing

February 14, 2014

A Heart for Valentine’s Day

By Nina D'Arcangela

Can you feel it? My heart? It is beating solely for you; so strong – so swift; the rapid pump pulsing ever so swiftly through me. My body pressed so close to your own; my soft fetid breath scampers across your sweet creamy skin.

I can feel your heart – I feel its quickening pace as I lean in ever closer, fingers trailing down your neck, across your throat, to the exposed cleavage you’ve offered me so unwittingly in your desire to please. You do wish to please me, don’t you my sweet? With just a single breath you will inspire me forever; ignite my undying lust; engender my everlasting devotion.

But what will this breath cost you my love, my scrumptious little morsel? Are you willing to give me the breath I long to have, the one I will take whether you offer it or not? Yes, my darling pet – hush now, I’ll have what is mine for you haven’t the will or the power to stop me from taking it.

My gentle stroke continues; a light fluttery caress of my small hand across your bosom; the first scrape of my nail on your soft swelling skin. Oh – did that small wounding hurt you? Gentle thing that you are, you know not of the glorious pain I could bring to you. Please believe that I would never allow your pain to exist beyond a mere moment. Hush now, be calm – there is no need to fuss, it will only last but a gasp for you, but for me – I shall remember it for all eternity.

There, be a good dear, lean back… Yes I will lie with you. Why would I ever abandon a creature as glorious as yourself, allowing another to set their desires upon you? Did you not understand my claim of ownership? Do you honestly believe you still have a choice in the matter? Please my little pet, fret if you will, but know it only excites me more.

Yes, that is wonderful… That look of confusion, of fear – no one is coming to save you; you are mine and I will have my entire fill.

Your body now pressed prone below mine, the string of spittle still dangling from my own salivating mouth dancing around your glorious cleavage. Tentatively you look up to reassure yourself that there is no danger in this game we play. My loving caresses; my soft curvaceous body a mate to every sway and curve of your own; what a perfect fit we two. What a very perfect fit indeed.

As my long, soft hair gently strokes your sensitive skin, the sensation heightens your arousal – I can smell it. No need to look so frightened again, you are my pet, my doll, my toy – I am your Angel. I shall unfetter your heart of all the distrust and skittish fear this cruel world has stamped upon it. This beautiful, undulating, pulsating, quickening heart of yours.

Our eyes meet one final time; yours soft and gentle; as crystal clear as an azure sky; so tainted by pain, yet untouched by the depths of true malevolence. Such a perfect specimen you are. A fleeting moment of fear passes through those depthless orbs upon seeing the cold hard truth of my own; but only a moment – as I promised, I will not let you suffer…

Our eyes still locked; the exhalation of my lungs washing over you; my hand ripping through the pretty piece of fabric you’ve chosen to entice me with this evening. As the fabric falls away and your soft flesh begins to peel back under my ever digging claws, a look of panicked confusion crosses your face.

Ahhh… the moment begins. The moment when your fragile diminutive mind has still not recognized the danger that is quite literally upon you; the danger of the one you have called to you this night. Your poor feverish mind only now beginning to understand the situation, yet still unwilling to comprehend it; nor recognize the impulses that are telling you that your body is registering an odd sensation – an unbelievable amount of pain.

Staring into your fathomless eyes, I watch as the moment of recognition dawns there, lasting only the duration of a single heartbeat in which you realize on the most primitive level that you will not live to the end of this breath.

Yes, this is the glory, this is my desire, this is the euphoria I crave!

It’s not that I wish to rip such a beautifully undulating organ from your perfectly formed body, but how else shall I experience the utterly inexplicable pleasure I feel while watching what could be the dawn of an eon for me, yet only a breath for you… How else will I glimpse it in your eyes? The look of simple fear that is now ingrained in your stare feeds me in a way I could never describe to a mind that does not understand the raw power of emotional innocence. Yes, I am ripping your heart out of your chest; and yes it is beyond your most untamed imaginings to comprehend what watching this thought enter your disbelieving mind makes me feel. My own body vibrates with the thrill of it. But it lasts only a mere instant before your eyes glaze over like polished glass – now the eyes of a doll – my doll, my beautiful expired toy.

Thank you for sating my need with your life; thank you for giving me your innocent trust; thank you for understanding how badly I needed this moment between us. The sweet taste of your blood as I take my first lick of your now gaping chest tells me of your love for me. If you did not understand, if you did not want me to have my fill, would your blood not taste bitter to my delicately lapping tongue? I believe it would, and as your juices run down my arm from your no longer beating heart, I feel the stroke of your own caress given back to me even in death.

This is how I know of your love for me.

You would sacrifice so much that I may sate myself upon you. Did you know of this sacrifice from the onset? No, you did not – but it would not have mattered, you loved me, you would have given me all that I asked of you. You sought me out; you first approached me; you pressed your body to mine in offering. You honor me with the one thing that you can now never give to another; and I shall not be wasteful of your gift, no my darling – I shall not waste what a delicious fawn such as yourself has given me.

A few more tentative licks while your blood still trickles… how I loathe to abandon this moment we have shared together; this adoration of the tender and fragile life you have given me. But our moment has passed my sweetness, and now there is but one way to keep you forever.

I wish to tell you that you will always be a part of me. I wish to explain the joy I shall feel as I sink my teeth into your delicious heart and consume it so that we may always be together. I wish you to know the pleasure that lavishing in your beautifully torn apart carcass will bring me while I lick you clean. I wish I could have eased your fear by letting you know how I shall treat your now empty body; that I shall treat it with more respect by cleaning it with my own mouth than any other creature could have treated it in this short, yet exquisite life you have just left. But I can not… nor could I have told you of these things before our euphoria, for it would have stolen the magic from the moment and ruined what we shared.

Such is the existence of a lover such as I; to find a perfectly bloomed flower only to pluck it and watch it whither… then again, who does not do such a thing – and who better to honor this tradition than the Angels themselves.