Upon the opening of grand doors to the 17th century-style mansion, light spilled onto the wooden porch and cobblestone walkway. The shadows making haste to clear a path for the eloquent light that, at the moment shined on the woman known as Jessica. Her hair illuminating the mansions porch.
Slowly closing the door, a soft sigh hung on the air as the shadows slowly crept its way towards the woman, wary of the giant Oak thing that let loose people of the night into the hands of the children of the night. Also, the door bestowed upon them—as if some crude joke—the light that hurts them so. The moved in closer to un-knowingly embrace the woman.
Taking three steps to the edge of the porch, the woman spread her arms at her side, throwing her head back and welcoming the warm Santa Ana Winds that blew in from the East. The wind blew her hair about and softly threw the ruffles upon her dress that hugged her shoulders and delicate curves.
Just then, a hand shot from the darkness, but she saw the glint of the blade too late. Like lightning, the blade pressed into her throat and his hand covered her mouth so that her screams of terror would be muffled, and shared only amongst the two. Her muffled screams remained unheard over the pounding music, the whistling winds now sounding like a horsed chuckle as she began to struggle to free herself. Her jaws parted again to scream, tears streaming down her face; but his grip tightened around her jaws harder and harder until a discreet POP! Was heard, dislocating her fragile jaw.
Feeling the bones in her jaw separate as they dislocate, her mandibles gaping in pain, shock, and terror as the shadows crept into her peripheral whilst her body starting to become void of feeling and slump slightly in the males arms from pain. Feeling her body giving way to the pain, he removed the knife from her throat, and drags her into an alley beside the grand mansion. Letting her body fall to the floor with a soft thud. He rummaged in his pocket and pulled out a tiny canister and held it under the woman's nose, forcing her to wake with a start. Throwing the tedious canister inside the open dumpster as he covered her mouth while she attempted to regain consciousness. Her glossy blue eyes rolled, almost looking innocent.
Kissing her neck and letting the blade slide lazily down her blouse, revealing perky mounds of pale flesh contrasted with pink nipples. Soft as a baby's bum when touched. His manhood grew erect, his eyes grew hungry as her legs kicked and thrashed wildly like a braying horse, her hands clawing his face. Instead of making him angry and forcing his hand, the clawing of his face had a different affect. Quite the opposite, each time she attempted to maul his face with her trimmed nails, a shiver of bliss shot through his being; creating throbbing sensation down into his loins.
Still thrashing like about like a wild horse, the hand holding the blade would rise, as he brought his fist, and the handle of the blade, down upon her face. Moving the hand covering her mouth to pop her.
The thrashing, and bucking, stopped. She lied there. Silent and wide-eye as he held a single finger to his lips
"Shh. be quiet"
He whispered. Although his voice was soft and caring, in the dark, his eyes were blazing with a raging hate that made the screams catch in her throat, for there were screams in his eyes.
Opening her blouse whilst unzipping his pants, he planted, although swollen, bloody and multicolored, a kiss that was seemed so fragile that it would break if someone were to move the wrong way. The kiss and the feel of his warm breath that reeked heavy with alcohol made her stomach turn and made her gag. Then he penetrated her. The woman felt a pain arise in her chest, and a scream boil in her throat. But before she could let it out,
"Ssh" he shushed her again while sliding himself deeper into her, blood trickling down his shaft and between her pale legs.
She cried silently. Her tears slid down her face like the waters of Niagara Falls. The only sounds that filled her ears were his grunting, in sync with his thrust. His breath of compassion not making the situation better. Sobs filled her chest as her heart began to beating heavy and boomed in her ears—somehow his penetrating her was in tune with her heart.
Suddenly—after what felt like an eternity—his entire being shook slightly as he grunted loudly in complete ecstasy, whispering his accomplishment.
Again he put his hand to her mouth and she felt something cold upon her throat followed immediately by a rush of warmth and shortness of breath.
The warmth of her body started slipping away, first in her toes as they began to tingle. A feeling like a truck rolling over her chest nearly put her body in shock, the villain using her to hoist himself up. Looking down slightly at her naked body, she saw the silhouette of His body. 6'3 and very athletic. He took strides almost majestically and with purpose as he quickly disappeared around the corner of the alley. Her head rolling back—each breathe a gurgling sound as she swallowed and choked on her blood—her hair became drenched and caked with blood. Eyes rolling up, she saw the moon. How beautifully she hung up there lazily, being held—if not caressed—by the stars that lay forever loyal to her. Tonight, the moon looks down with sadness as the female lie amongst the bloody mud, her blood forming skeletal wings as darkness crept into her peripheral and blocked out the dumpster she was dumped behind, like trash. The cat hissed angrily, but softly licked at her cheek after climbing softly upon her chest. Finally the sky grew darker, her body colder, as the moon winked and waved goodnight—
[Ha! I did it! I really did it! Maybe I should stop running? My lungs are on fire and my shoes are making WAY too much noise… but I can't! The adrenaline has kicked in, but it feels sooo good! The miserable slut. She dare bleed the blood of innocence as if I deflowered her?! But I actually did it! Although it was only two minutes, I still did it! My pretty, was that satisfactory? Did you love the way her heartbeat beat right through you? Did your pulse race at the tenderness of her tainted flesh as mine did? How now, did you become so sharp enough as to cut through her linen like butter? No matter now. Did you see her face? Her eyes, I should have taken those damn eyes. Her body said for me to stop, but her eyes wanted more! The fucking whore… has she no shame at all? No worries though, as you kissed her neck and opened her throat, the precious rubies that dripped from her shall never be replace as the priceless jewels that dripped from her shall never be replaced. Pouring from her and puddled 'round her like a lake. Wait…. Have I gone too far? Damn. Well, one less scum of a whore that shan't walk the earth…]
—But not goodbye. Just as she lost consciousness, a Good Samaritan came down that same forsaken alley whistling the Russian national anthem.
[The moon looks beautiful tonight. Not like homeland, but it will do. The vodka here sucks. Taste like sewer water. Ugh, I've really got to take a leak. But not wiff so many windows around, I may be drunk but I'm not stupid. Might scare some children. I can be a little discreet behind this dumpster. At least no one else has to see this monster. But… what is familiar smell? Like urine, fear… and blood… damn I must be… OH MY GOD! Who would do such things to a beautiful creature like yourself? I take her to hospital. Upsie daisy pretty lady, don't worry now. I'll get you somewhere where they can fix you. Your heart still beats faintly… I can tell by the way the blood still gushes from your neck 'cause of your heart beat. Don't worry princess. I'll make sure you're okay…]
3 Months Later:
When Jessica started to wake, her pale flesh crawled with goose bumps; the gash on her neck grew paler than the rest of her skin.
In her room, the walls were peeling, all three coats of paint one after the other. Blood stained the walls and floor from the patient before her, and perhaps a few before them.
Screams filled the peeling halls echoing harshly and rang in the ears like calf to slaughter. A voice attempting to sooth the injured as his leg was being amputated with a bloody saw used ten minutes before without being cleaned. The leg being removed with no anesthetics.
Jessica woke with a start at the scream, horror stricken and confused. She attempted to look around, but found she couldn't due to her throat still healing. Her eyes played over the room. Dead flowers, blood caked tiles, and blood that seemed to be smeared into the wall after being splattered. The void of a human taking shape as shoulders and a head were seen where the blood didn't spray. Just as her eyes fell upon a closet that stood slightly ajar—there seemed to be finger, toes or a mixture of both—the doctor came in at her left side. A stout, and round man. His eyes were deep in his skull and yellowing, his nose and ears were pointed, his hair caked with blood that hasn't been washed in weeks... possibly months. Looking up from the clipboard held in his right hand—that missed his index and ring finger—he smiled at Jessica, revealing teeth that seemed to be sharp enough to chew through flesh, if they didn't have a piece of meat hanging from his canines already. As he spoke, he spoke low. Jessica, feeling uncomfortable, leaned in closer to hear the doctor's words. His low baritone voice seemed to resonate through Jessica's being and send chills down her spine as she sat, frozen and listening intently.
The doctor spoke of the laceration that dug deep into her throat, but didn't hit any of her main arteries surprisingly. He also said that she was pregnant. The man's words hit her like the force of a speeding truck at her chest. She felt the tears well up in her eyes, and the sobs caught in her throat. Before he could utter another word, she asked if he can get rid of it. The doctor tried his hardest to convince her not to kill the baby boy, but she was strongly against keeping it. She said it had to go. How the doctor tried to talk her out of if, but she refused. He heaved a sigh; "If you insist, I will have an operating room ready immediately for the operation. But there is a low risk of survival for both you and the baby." She didn't care. As long as the thing was from inside her, she didn't care. How the doctor hung his head in shame as the woman so openly chose death for such a beautiful seed.
Once in the operating room, the doctor laid out his somewhat rusted tools. The cervical dilators, uterine curette, manual vacuum aspiration, and finally, the forceps. The woman lie on the table with her legs spread and heart racing. First the doctor used the cervical dilators to dilate the woman for the tools use. Once she reached the 10cm maximum, the doctor reached in with the forceps that still had the blood of the last slain baby. Feeling around, he grabbed hold of something and pulled aggressively until the limb gave way. He removed a leg. He went again to search for another part of the baby, tears chased after each other as the baby came out limb by limb. Removing his last leg then came the baby's abdomen. Oh how the tears began to fall. Due the waters of Niagara compare? The only thing left for the doctor to remove was the head. He sat, hesitant as he stared at the mutilated body parts he has pulled out already. The infant's insides spilling out onto the floor. Finally, after taking a deep breath, he reached in and found the baby's head. With a loud cry of anguish and hurt, the doctor crushed the baby's head, sloppily and forcefully pulled out the tool gripping the bloody and crushed skull of the baby the never got the chance to see the light of day that is life. The lonely cries of the doctor filled the halls while anguish and isolation gripped his heart. No one knew why the halls would ring out with his wailing after every abortion. That's because they didn't know how his beloved Joanna went behind his back to have one. How she lie all bloody and confused, the blood seeping from betwixt her legs and soaking into the plush carpet of the living room as she attempted to abort the baby girl they had planned to have. Now this last abortion, he left the woman in nearly the same pose as his late lover. Her legs splayed wide with blood oozing awkwardly in comparison to the tears that were shed from her lifeless eyes.
No more will he choose to do such barbaric acts. How he cries after each life he could not save. How the shadows of his past haunt him as he paced the peeling walls deep in contemplating thought. The nurses stayed out his way. He was talking crazy and mumbling to himself. Shortly afterward he made his escape to his office and bourbon. The nurses whispered amid the small groups stationed around at the several nursing stations and a loud Bang! Compelled the nurses to jump, their hearts and screams caught in their throats as then noise hung in the air and they followed the sound. They slowly opened the doctor's door, and there on his desk was a vial of a fetus labeled "Joanna" the doctor sat back awkwardly in his chair, his head hanging over the back with a spray of red liquid and brain goo on the window behind him. The nurses screamed, one took the initiative and steeped behind the doctor's desk to see the back of his head completely blown out by the snub nose .32 with what seemed to be a hollow point round. She fainted. A sad day it was. But no time to mourn, there was still work to be done…
