Shadows

You scream and cry, struggling uselessly against the bonds that confined you. You don't want to do this, not like this. But do I look like I care? Do I look like I give a fuck? No, no I don't. And yet, you don't see this, do you?

I nip at your earlobe, gaining a soft moan. I smile. In spite of your defiance, I can feel your arousal. Your heart says no, and why wouldn't it? It belongs to another. To a person that is not me. And I hate you for it.

You mewl wantonly as I squeezed your thigh, my hand trailing upwards. Ashamed of your reaction, you turn your head away, eyes squeezed shut as you can't bear to look at me. And we can't have that now, can we?

This continues throughout the night. I keep on kissing, you keep on moaning. I keep on biting, you keep on crying. And as I let my essence loose deep inside you, I gently closed your lifeless eyes and pulled out. Pulling your cold body close to mine, I thank the shadows that hid my face as I killed my own salvation...

Necrophilia

You, you sicken me. Open your mouth, and all that comes out are vulgarities. Not a single word of love for me.

I hate you. I can't stand you. Whenever I hold you, you always resist. You always reject my adoration, my love. Why can't you just accept me? Why not just submit?

I clasp your hand and smile.

Not anymore. No more resistance. No more rejections. Such a willing partner you are, no? I can hold and kiss you freely, with no marks to blight my face.

I kiss your frozen lips and cup your stiff face.

It's too bad I had to do this to make you submit though, little light...

Masochism

I groan, I cry and I shudder in pleasure. I savor each lash that you give to me. Each strike of the whip does nothing to ease the pain I feel from the knife you stab in my skin. And I love it. Such raw aggressiveness, such passion. When was the last time I saw you like this?

My body is bloodied, not a single trace of untainted skin can be found on me. My blood falls to the ground in a large pool and I smiled blissfully as I dipped my hand in it.

I lapped at my hand grinned. I didn't know that blood tasted so sweet. Perhaps we can do this more often...?

Only... we can't anymore, can we?

POV Change

I caress your freezing skin. Your face looks so serene in that sweet smile. You're so lucky to have your face frozen like that. I only wish that I had more time to play with you. Oh well, I suppose it's time for me to leave. It was nice knowing you, little light...

Sadism

Such a pretty, pretty face you have little light. Soft porcelain skin, such a beautiful shade of white. Bright amethyst eyes, the color of purity. Lush lips that know not the hideousness of a frown. You truly are the epithet of innocence. And I desire you so.

Sometimes I wonder how you would look like with that porcelain face smeared with blood. I fantasize of your eyes, clouded and lifeless. Your lips, bruised and bleeding. And most of all, your innocence gone. I lick my lips in wanton desire. Such a delicious image that is.

But I can't rely on fantasies alone. Oh no, little light. I want action. I don't want my fantasy to stay that way.

I gently rap my knuckles on your door, my face masked into my light's serene smile. You open the door and beam, clutching onto my arm as you dragged me into your home. I mentally smirk at your naivety, your trust. Such a fragile thing is trust. Just like glass, it's so easily broken.

We talk for a few minutes, engaging in light conversation as I inched towards you every passing minute. By the time I'm seated next to you, you stand up and stutter, making up an excuse about going to the toilet. No doubt you caught sight of my eyes. Sharper, harsher, more lustful than my light's.

I clutch at your sleeve before you can leave, breaking my mask as I fully stared into your fearful amethyst eyes. Fear. It surrounds you heavily, and the taste is delicious. I can't wait until we're done. Only then, will I fully be satisfied.

Don't cry little light. You should be honored. Of all the people I have killed, you are the only one who I have ever desired like this. Take refuge in that small comfort. For soon, we'll be in your bedroom alone, and I can finally let myself go...

Lexi: My first story. For both Yugi-oh and this account. Please, no flames. Though you may criticize my work as much as you want.

By the way, I'm only 12 years old so I'm not very good at writing yet. Please treat me nicely.