Category Archives: Valentine

Bloody Valentine Horror Event – Cracked Glass

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Cracked Glass

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.

~ Nina D’Arcangela


© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela

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Visit A.F. Stewart’s

The Bloody Valentine Horror Event

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Stop by A.F. Stewart’s Bloody Valentine Horror Event going on today from 9am – 4pm on Facebook for featured author discussions, books, links to other participating blogs, and plenty of Bad Love!

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Bloody Valentine Horror Event – Swept Away

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Swept Away

Dwindling twilight; a summer breeze. He hands her a chilled glass of wine. She smiles, thanks him, sips the dry fruity liquid and blushes. He returns the smile, sips from his own glass and looks out over the lapping water of the bay. Taking her hand, her leads her down the steps, across the patio and opens the gate leading to the surf. Slipping off her shoes, she steps through the gate and onto the cooling sand. He follows. Hand in hand they stroll to the water’s edge. Leaning down, he places a chaste kiss upon her forehead, her cheek, her moistened lips. They walk in silence, letting the water caress their ankles.

Rounding the tip of the inlet, the water is much more aggressive, the waves coming ashore with more force. The open ocean lies before them. They’ve always dreamed of sailing away together, escaping the drudgery of day to day life and living as nomads on the sea. They walk for what seems hours, both glasses long since drained, both sets of feet tiring of the sand. She smiles in the moonlight and nods the way they came, indicating they return home. Never one to deny her, he smiles his agreement. They turn, begin the trek back; the tide is coming in. She veers towards the gentler sand; he tightens his grip, holding her in place. She glances up, sure he has misread her cue. His face is shadowed, but seems harder, less indulgent. She tries to pull her hand free; he doesn’t allow it. He draws her further into the water; she tugs back, still believing he is playing. The moonlight slants across his face; she sees no mirth in his smile, but an ugliness she didn’t know existed. She begins to panic; he drags her toward the undertow. Being the stronger swimmer, he doesn’t fear the water at night; he relished the fight of the high tide. She swims only when the sea is calm, terrified of the unseen depths. Waves begin to crash over them; she sputters; he grins. Turning with an iron grip on her wrist, he drags her out into the inky blackness.

Eight days crawl by; he still clutches the swim trunks the police believe he was wearing the night he returned home, unable to find her. The detective sits on the opposing deck chair, tells him there is nothing more they can do. He begs, he weeps, he pleads for them to understand she would never enter the water at night alone. The detective understands, is sympathetic, but must still inform him they are declaring her lost at sea. The only item found thus far is her swimsuit that washed ashore. He identified it himself she reminds him. He is shattered, a broken man, the love of his life lost. The detective apologizes once more and excuses herself. The police presence withdraws from his home, his life, his world. He is the affluent one; there is no reason to suspect foul play. There wasn’t even a life insurance policy to question; she never had one. Playing the part of the grieving widower, he ceremoniously lays her to rest at sea; their friends all mourn his loss.

Three months later, he sails into port; she waits for him in the lavish bungalow they purchased on the French island of Réunion. They’ve had no contact in the months between. For two estranged lovers, it has been an eternity. They reunite; he pours each a glass of wine; she asks if there was suspicion. He tells her of his hysterics, burying his wife at sea, the long journey to reach the island. She asks again if he was suspected of having a hand in his wife’s death. He laughs as he answers that while he did indeed have exactly that – a hand in his wife’s death – they never suspected a thing. She asks how that could be. He smiles, places his wine on the table and cups her face while reassuring her the plan was flawless. Convincing her older sister to marry him, then gift him her wealth was a stroke of genius; it placed him above reproach and set them up to share a lifetime of extravagance. She’s the one he loves. The wedding; a ruse.

She smiles in return; she’s been swimming these waters for quite a while. She knows which underwater caves have air pockets, and which don’t.

~ Nina D’Arcangela


© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela

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Visit A.F. Stewart’s

The Bloody Valentine Horror Event

bloodyvalentinehorrorevent2017

Stop by A.F. Stewart’s Bloody Valentine Horror Event going on today from 9am – 4pm on Facebook for featured author discussions, books, links to other participating blogs, and plenty of Bad Love!

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Bloody Valentine Horror Event – Gentle Breeze

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Gentle Breeze

Wrapping my arms around you, your long locks caress my face in the gentle breeze. I reach up and stroke your hair back into place. I smile down at you, your clear blue eyes taking on an aquamarine glimmer in the brilliant rays of the sun. Leaning forward, I place a gentle kiss upon your full lips. They’re frigid beyond belief, not with lack of desire, but from the coolness of the autumn season. Wrapping the blankets tighter around you, I cuddle in closer, hoping to share my own warmth with you. You are all that matters to me. Was that the twitch of a smile I see? I laugh with joy as I hold you closer, trying to warm your cold body. I talk of plans we have for our future together, delight in allowing my mind to wander the exotic destinations we’ll travel to as I describe them, knowing an eternity awaits us. My head upon your breast, I speak of such things for hours.

Looking up into your eyes once more, I see peace and tranquility there. I see my future reflected in those beautiful glistening orbs. Again, I arrange your wind-mussed hair, make perfect your countenance, for you are perfect, and I’ll see you no other way. As I run my fingers through your luxurious blonde mane, my thumb brushes your cheek rougher than I would like. The smudge of your makeup reveals a bruise upon your creamy flesh. I kiss your cheek, I apologize profusely for hurting you. More makeup smears as my lips move over your skin. My brow creases as I look upon you again. Something is not right. Lifting myself to one elbow, I stare into your face… I begin to scream.

***

“Damn, man! Why do they keep letting her do this to herself? It seems cruel, if you ask me.”

“The Doc says it’s a form of therapy. She can’t come to grips with what she’s done. He thinks bringing her here and letting her lay on the grave might save her. More likely to break her for good, if you ask me.”

“I don’t know, man, it seems twisted. I know she was convicted on an insanity plea, but is this any less fucking sick than keeping your dead girlfriend propped up like some frigging Jenny doll in your bedroom?” He snuffed out his cigarette, “I mean, damn. Look at her. It’s like she’s really holding the dead chick the way she cups her arms… and the talkin’, it’s like she’s really talkin’ to somebody. Then the screams, man – I hear those fucking screams in my sleep every night. Why make her relive it over and over again? I think the Doc gets off on letting her dress up and do this. Why doesn’t he just give her some of those anti-psychotic pills everyone else gets? It’s been like five months now, right bro?”

“Shit, man. Don’t ask me – I just work here. There she goes, running toward the street again. I’ll get her this time, you just have the restraints ready.”

~ Nina D’Arcangela


© Copyright Nina D’Arcangela

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Visit A.F. Stewart’s

The Bloody Valentine Horror Event

bloodyvalentinehorrorevent2017

Stop by A.F. Stewart’s Bloody Valentine Horror Event going on today from 9am – 4pm on Facebook for featured author discussions, books, links to other participating blogs, and plenty of Bad Love!

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Bloody Valentine – Bad Love re-boot!

A Heart for Valentine’s Day

By Nina D’Arcangela

Motivational of Bloody Valentine Logo

 

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.  Be calm – there is no need to fuss, it will only last but a gasp for you; 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.

This 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.

© Copyright 2012 Nina D’Arcangela. All Rights Reserved.

A Heart for Valentine’s Day

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.


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