Conchita, the Epicurean Daughter of Evil
"Now, eat them up."
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A woman sat at the table bearing a black table cloth. Her blood red skirt (which had been dyed with the liquid) flowed from her waist. She held her hands on the table, waiting for her next macabre meal.
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The Apostate Castle smells rotten
The Last Supper begins as always
Gruesome foods on the table
A woman eating them up alone with a smile
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The maid walked in with two silver trays, her doppelganger butler in close pursuit. They placed the trays down and lifted the glistening lids. Droplets of steam fell from the surface, and Conchita frowned in disgust. She daintily reached with a clawed hand and plucked a piece of still bloody flesh from her meal, popping it into her mouth. Chewing slowly and silently, a sadistic smile rose to her features as the red fluid started slowly running down her chin.
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Her name is Vanika Conchita
She was once an opsomaniac
And then she went further than that,
The ultimate level of the baddest foods
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She plucked another piece of half raw flesh, smiling at the pink muscle underneath. Dropping it onto her black tablecloth stained with unseen blood, her hands dug into the meat, pulling it up from white bone. The loud squelch ran chills of pleasure down her spine. She brought the raw meat to her mouth, taking a large bite. Veins ripped and tore under her teeth. She smiled, moaning, and swallowed the half-chewed bite. She went for another, the put it down. A small thread of skin had wrapped around her finger. Wiping at her face, she dropped the littered handkerchief and reached with her tongue to grab it. She noticed she was being watched. She paused, scowling at her help with her tongue extended to the flesh on her digit.
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Respect her, honor her
Our great Conchita
All foods in this world are for her
Eat them up, every bit of the world
More room for foods in her
The shining pale blue deadly poison
Is the best spice for main dishes
Eat right up, down to the bone
If it's not enough, bite into the dishes
Total bliss on her tongue
The supper is not yet finished
The twins looked away quickly. Conchita smiled with pleasure as a salty sweat ran down the cheek and neck of her butler. She licked her lips, slurping up the string. She grabbed a piece of bread, dipping it into the pool of blood underneath the gorged meat. She licked the dark, dark brown crust, smiling, and bit into it. Once again, dribbles of blood fell from her mouth. She licked her lips, wet crumbs sticking to the plump, pink flesh.
"Want some?" she offered sickly, then cackled wickedly as they both shook their heads.
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-Today's Breakfast-
*juice, 6 kinds of weeds mixed
*cornflakes, contains a lot of iron only
*poison mushroom soup
*salad, cooked capriciously by the chef
*special brioche by the butler
*assorted off-season fruits
*unable-to-wake-up-again coffee (low calorie)
.
-Today's Lunch-
*grilled leek and raw leek salad with a big leek
*pink octopus Carpaccio, tastes like the Queen
*Japanese style grilled eggplant w/o Gakupo
*bread, baked whatever by the maid
*special sweet potato icecream by the chef
*self-made Hi-Potion (McDonald's milkshake mixed)
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Conchita sat in bed as the butler took away her breakfast tray and the maid came in carrying her blood dress with a pale look on her face, as she did every morning. The queen smiled to herself.
"Now, now, no need for such a face."
"I apologize, Madam."
As every morning, she stripped from the black nightgown, had the maid string and tighten her corset, then help her into the thick, full layers of her gown.
"Now, Wicked Maid, what is for my breakfast?" she demanded. The girl handed her a tablet.
"Here, Madam." she said in the same monotone.
"Mmm…" she moaned, licking her lips. "Now, taunt me with the midday meal."
"Yes, Madam." she answered, handing her a second of the same, emerald green color. Conchita smiled, the tip of her tongue lingering on the right corner of her mouth. The look of seductive pleasure told the Wicked Maid that Conchita could almost taste her lunch.
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The fifteenth personal chef of this year
He asked me, "Could you let me take holidays, my lady?"
I have to say, they're all useless
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The blue haired man trembled as he registered her scowl, on one knee and his head bowed. Conchita was giving him a scary look, and she was displeased at his request. On holidays, after all, she needed a special feast. She battered him with words and insults, then asked the Wicked Maid to relieve him of his position.
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Respect her, honor her
Our great Conchita
Betrayers have to pay the price for what they do
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Conchita smiled as the maid and her twin walked in carrying a large silver platter in between them. The lid was unneeded, because it only made her more anxious about her dinner. They sat it in front of her, lifting the lid. The smell of Death welcomed her and she was drunk off the ghastly odor. Raw flesh dripped blood onto bone. His skull was placed in the center of the front, a lovely little beauty piece. The half liquid skin dripped from the white tendons. Blood pooled around cleverly placed leaves of lettuce. Abandoning utensils, Conchita went for the kill.
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Eat them up, every bit of the world
Today's menu is really special
The shining pale blue hair works out perfectly for salad hors d'oeuvres
Eat up, right down to the bone
If it's not enough, just have "another"
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The maid threw the doors open, seething and seeping with anger. Conchita looked both amused and confused by the anger in her eyes.
"Where is he?!" she demanded. She held the handkerchief of her brother tightly in her hands. Conchita simply smiled and patted her belly. The Wicked Maid stared at her in horror, then fled the room in tears.
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Oh, my butler, over there
What does "you" taste like?
-Today's Dinner-
*salad of the chef cooked capriciously
*Vermicelli pasta, really long and thin
*assorted (censored)
*muddy Gallete, tastes like the Road Roller
*(censored) soup
*bloody red wine, well it's blood
.
-Today's Fourth Meal
*(censored)
*(censored)
*(censored)
*(censored)
*(censored)
.
And then the castle was deserted
Nothing left there, anyone else but her
Even so, she wanted more
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Conchita stared at the walls, feeling quite angry. "Maid!" she called, remembering she'd eaten her last night. Her butler before, her fifteenth chef before that. Conchita sighed, feeling weak. She hadn't eaten in days. Resting her chin on her hand, the Queen drummed the fingernails of her right hand on the table, which had been stripped of its black blanket. Conchita looked down at her red nails, a thought occurring. She smiled, raising the appendage to her lips.
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The ultimate level of the baddest foods
"If I don't eat them, I'll get scorched."
Eat them up, every bit of the world
She gazed at her right hand and smiled amiably
"There's more to eat…"
The baddest food for Conchita
It was…Yes, it was herself
Now she knows all the tastes in the world
But nobody knows what "she" tasted like