Title: Beautiful People
Author: Corvyie
Inspiration: An asylum role-plays application prompt-of-sorts.
Motivation: The silence of being alone at school at 6AM for three and a half hours with nothing to do but type...
Style: One-shot
Words: 1,349
Date Written: Monday, March 08, 2010

Warnings: Sexual inferences, murder, gore, strong mental images, psychotic thinking, delusions, insanity, etc. read at your own risk, I suppose.

"Arthur" Note: All right, so, this was supposed to be a 2-5 paragraph post about the incident, which leads to France's admission to an asylum for a role-play site application. However, as I thought and detailed the key points of the incident in my mind, I found myself developing it beyond my intended summary and into a full-blown story. After typing out the key points, elaborating and then revising to make it even more disturbing, I deemed it presentable and then realized... I could not use this for my application. Without further ado, here is the result of an imagination that got carried away...

Enjoy!

He gave an alluring smile in response to the announcement that he had been chosen… again, "Of course," he sang, each syllable of the words rolling with the soft caress of a French accent, "Beautiful women always choose beautiful men." He smirked as he left the room and spotted the female who awaited him.

Such a beautiful specimen of human life, he thought as he drank her in with his eyes. Mahogany locks spilling down a lean, thin back, straight with only a few wayward bangs across her face. Common brown eyes bright with the intensity of an exciting life that told of all the wondrous adventures she had experiences that day, a mouth painted red with lipstick slightly parted as she gazed back at him through half-lidded eyes. A regular costumer, he noted as he studied her, a frown gracing his lips, cold eyes gazing, unmoved by her beauty that had other men at their knees.

"Good evening, mon amour," he purred at her, and she smiled in response, "Are you prepared for a night of passionate lovemaking?" A sly, fox-like grin spreading across his lips as she blushed, once corner of her painted lips pulling up into a smirk, "The question is," she retorted, taking a step forward and resting a hand on his chest, gazing up at him with those eyes, "Are you?"

"Mon petite ami, I am always ready," he answered and made a gesture for her to take his arm. Placing her hand at the conjunction of his elbow, they walked down the halls to his room. There were many rooms in the brothel, all with oak doors that hid the secrets of so many men and women who sought the pleasures of another human's company every night of the year. Hiding those who is main purpose in life was to fuck others speechless and collect the pay resulting from a good night's sex.

"Filthy place, filthy, filthy, filthy place…" a voice inside of him screamed as he carnal sounds of lovemaking filled the air surrounding them as he escorted her deeper and deeper into the lions womb.

"A masterpiece of humanity," he sang inside as he gazed about. An embodiment of how weak, how oh so very weak humans were. They bended to your will when their desires were met, taking all they could grab, greedy, lusting little things they were. Prideful, they were not whores, no; those working inside the houses were the whores. Envious of the beauty of those within, taking that beauty, calling it, if just for one night, theirs, bought through the money and status they held. Deadly humans, deadly, sinful little humans... so weak, so dirty, so impeccably... fragile.

"You're hurting me," he voice broke out as she struggled against his grip. They were in his room now, his domain, safe from curious eyes of customers and workers alike. He smiled in response, "Ah, I am sorry," he answered, his grip tightening around the flesh as he watched her twitch in pain.

"S-Stop that!" she hissed, attempting to pry his hand away from her to no avail. Struggling, struggling, humans always struggled, even when they knew that their efforts were fruitless. They struggled to hold onto their life that would end in a matter of years anyway. He chuckled cruelly and she stared, wide-eyed and horrified, ah humans... these disgusting beautiful creatures.

He tossed her onto the bed, back turned as he listened to her stumble, the contact with the mattress making the springs creak in defiance. Blue eyes glanced back at her, a slow, steady smirk spreading across his lips as he moved forward to lock the door, bolt it shut and turned to face her, arms crossed across his chest, that smirk across his face.

Sighing he smiled, a romantic smile that did not reach the coldness of his eyes, "You are so beautiful," he whispered, the tones floating across the still air of the room. It was the manner of which they were spoken that made her shiver, not in desire, but fear. Hungry and volatile, almost taunting in the way he said it, "You are most beautiful with your hair in such disarray, your eyes full of fear," he smiled, eyes dancing as he chuckled, "Shivering like that, thinking you're going to... die."

His voice likes shards of eyes, prickling the skin to life as he took a step away from the door and closer to her, "Do you think down on me because of my status?" He asks as he advances, never once letting her gaze slip out of his blue-eyed stare, "Because I work here and you... live off of the money from your dead parents?" He chuckles, "I bet you do." Then he is on the bed, one knee proper up on the bed, her back pressed against the headboard.

"N-no," she attempted, weakly to argue against him, but she is silenced in her fear, the anxious beating of her heart the sound that he concentrates on, what a wondrous sound. So desperate, the heartbeat, so quick-paced, as if trying to get out every beat it would have had this not happened...

"Silly girl, there is nothing that separates us but what we... or our ancestors... give us." He says, a lazy smile on his face and then he is on top of her, one hand covering her mouth, the other digging in his pockets for... ah, there it is, he removes his hand to reveal a glistening blade of a switchblade, "Absolutely nothing." He repeats and then touches it to her exposed thigh, "You react as anyone would react," He whispers as goose-bumps sprout across the pale skin. "You think as all humans do... only acting for yourself... greedy." He muttered and smiles, "You see, we're all just one big happy family." He coos happily.

"We all have blood," he digs the blade into her skin, the ruby red droplets pouring out from the wound as she cries out in agony, "Rushing through our veins. It keeps us alive, pumped out from our heart," he dragged the blade up to the exact location her beating heart is, cutting the fabric there into an "X" as if to say that x marks the spot. "Then we have arteries throughout our body," he takes the blade, cutting it along each and every artery's line, slicing the fabric of her dress until it falls away into strips of fabric. "And veins that help," and he smirks now, digging the knife once more into her skin even after he knows that she is dead from the loss of blood until all that is left is her naked body, the wounds still fresh and leaking blood.

Smiling at his work, he lifts the blade to his mouth and licks away the blood there, chuckling softly, "See... your blood tastes the same as mine," he murmurs before stabbing the knife into the mattress. Leaning over, he gathers her into a hug, an odd act of affection, murmuring in her unhearing ears, "We're all alike, mon beautiful human," and he kisses her bloody cheek before leaving.

He opens the door to leave, uncaring of the stares he receives of the blood splattered across his clothes. All that runs through his mind how beautiful humans are, all the components that make up a single human... those components that make up all humans, makes them all the same...

"Francis, what the fuck happened?" Ah, her voice... she who was responsible for all of this. Their eyes meet briefly, just briefly, "Mon petite human," he murmurs lowly, "Your eyes have always been the loveliest shade of green." He says and she jolts at the manner of his speaking.

Raising his head to look at her fully, a maniacal smile spreads across his face, "So beautiful." He mutters again before reaching out, catching her by the waist. He barely registers the limbs pressing against him, trying to push and pull him away as his other raises and digs into the eyes socket.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" A horrified scream fills the night air.