I've got no idea where this came from or what the fuck it is.
Trigger Warnings: Contains sexual abuse and gore.
Torn-Up Rose Petals
If he could just feel her tremble, like a moth trapped in the cage of his fingers. Just for an instant have her close enough he could eat her whole. Vulnerable enough he could rip the wings from her back and watch her flounder.
There is such beauty in her dying eyes - he can tell, even from afar. Even his feral mind can still comprehend beauty.
She is dying. Or will be very soon. If he could close the distance between them, just -
A single tear trickles from the corner of her eye, whole and perfect and terrible as it slides down the smooth plain of her cheek. Her eyes shudder closed. The room is spectacularly black, just as he likes it. If she can't see, what does she fear?
Or is it the blindness itself that shakes her? He wonders this, as he has wondered countless times before.
He is twitching on the spot, eyes wide and hungry as he shifts from clawed foot to clawed foot. There is saliva running freely from between the jagged spikes of his teeth, but he doesn't move to stem the flow. It forms little pools on the ground below him, slick and smelling of rotting flesh. They are illuminated by the eerie blue-green of the glowing mushrooms lining the path, like little gleaming eyes in the dirt. Silent witnesses.
"Hello?" Her voice is like bottled panic. His ears drink it down and his throat offers her a gurgling moan in return. He can feel his cock stiffen and he reaches down to take an experimental tug at it. A tremor of pleasure boils through his body.
She is fighting against her restraints now, writhing, her flesh bared to him - naked and milky. Wreaking of gorgeous blood. He can feel her heartbeat in the shell of his ears as it vibrates through the air towards him.
He takes two strides towards her. Her attention snaps in his direction.
Little moth, little moth. He barely manages to conceal his gleeful giggle.
"Who's there?"
His fangs extend, nails elongating as he scratches them through the grit of the cave floor. She is whimpering now, AND. IF. SHE. DOES. NOT. STOP. HE. WILL. HAVE. TO. TEAR. HER. APART.
Pure, maddening, vicious, extraordinary arousal.
He imagines her guts, hot and warm and gooey between his fangs. Sliding raw down his throat, staining his hands the perfect shade of crimson.
"Pretty, pretty, pretty…" It's too late when he realises he's spoken out loud.
She shrieks and it nearly sends him tipping over the edge, hardness throbbing, aching. A sound, half bark, half wail rips from his throat and he approaches her.
She screams again and again until he reaches into her mouth. His claws pierce her tongue and he pulls ever so slowly, shredding the delicate muscle into fine ribbons.
Now the only noise is the breath hissing through her nose and her heart bashing itself against the fragile bars holding it captive in her chest.
He sinks his talons into her shoulders, watching the liquified life gather into tiny red pearls that roll down her arms and back.
"See what you did?" He growls, rubbing himself up and down her front and leaning to catch a few of the drops with his rough tongue. She struggles against him, but he sinks his fingers further into her flesh and holds her still.
He is mesmerised by the exquisite terror in her eyes. So much so, he remains locked to them as he thrusts himself inside of her.
He keens, mewling in pleasure as he beats against her core over and over. Blood runs down her front from the gory mass that was her tongue and it drips to where their bodies meet, slickening his delirious movements.
He looses a set of nails to scrape down her right breast, catching the sensitive skin and slicing it as simply as a knife slices parchment. He squeals in delight.
"So close, so close…"
She has fallen slack against her bonds, eyes rolled back so all that shows are ghostly white orbs stuck in her skull.
"Yessss…!"
He lowers his head, fangs sinking into the base of her neck. His thrusts become frantic, frenzied, as he drains her dry. With one final suck he explodes within her, his cries of euphoria echoing back to him from the curved walls of the cave.
He pulls free from her once the waves of pleasure rocking his body quiet, eyes heavy on her emaciated, bloodless corpse. He sucks the scarlet juices from each of his fingers in turn, taking his time and savouring the taste of hot death.
He is unable to control his cackling laughter as he takes her head between his hands and twists, cracking her neck and wrenching it free from her body. The noise is a wet and satisfying crunch. He savours the sound, replaying it over again in his memory.
He cradles the head in his arms like it's an infant, prancing up and down like a yearling fawn at play.
"A new friend!"
Across the cave, a shelf has been built of human bones. Five rows high, the shelf is piled with dozens of heads. Each female. Each with a dried-crisp tongue which falls from their gaping jaws like torn-up rose petals.