Bloody Kisses from your Mistress

[{{Zombie_Addict}}]

Jessica was covered from head to toe in blood. It dripped from her long black hair leaving little red drops in the already blood soaked carpet. The red splattered across her face making the ice blue of her eyes stand out. It dripped from her chin making her look like the proverbial vampire.

The white corset she wore was soaked, only the lace in the back was still white. The corset dripped lines down her stomach where it stopped above her navel; therefore, causing her stomach to be splattered with small chunks of brain.

The tan shorts dripped blood and small amounts of brain slid slowly down her legs. The empty corpse lay halfway off the bed. The insides were ripped viciously out of the woman’s body and strewn halfway across the room. The back of her head bashed open with the handle of a screw driver and was picked out and strewn, not only down her but on the floor and nightstand.

Red bloody foot prints trail to the man’s body. He lay on the floor dropped as if nothing but a sack of potatoes. His stomach ripped completely open and his intestines pulled out. Blood pooled out from his body seeping into the carpet he lay on.

A small blood red hand print covered his cheek as if she’d slapped him. Staring at her parents she smiles an evil almost joyful smile. A sharp gasp comes from the doorway. “I’m sorry brother. They made me angry.” She looks back at her brother, John a sad look replacing the joy on her face, although her eyes, her eyes were alive with excitement and joy.

She watched as he fell to his knees in the carnage. “Mom…Dad…” She heard him moan softly. Let his heart break for the people he called parents, Let him feel the remorse she would never feel for the very people who made her life hell. She steps lightly past his weeping frame and into the night disappearing instantly from sight.

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Jessica walked barefoot through the empty street high on the feeling insider her, the feeling of being free. She wandered for hours and her feet were starting to bleed, the bottoms of them rubbed raw. Her body exhausted from wandering hours into the night sunlight was peeking up from the horizon lined with trees.

 

[Ghostsforlunch]

He’s not sure how much time has passed. The sobs of anguish come less frequently now. His knees are sore despite the carpet. Through the film of his tears he can make out the shapes of his parents: his eviscerated father slumped against the wall and his ancephalic mother mercifully slumped over the far side of their massive bed. His breath catches in his throat as a new wave of despair washes over him. The small boy presses his palms into the gore-soaked carpet as he tries to push himself to his feet.

When he finally stands up, motes of light swim in front of his eyes. He staggers: legs completely numb from kneeling for so long. He raises his hands to look at their crimson-stained palms. The carpet squelches as he takes another step to steady himself. This was his parent’s blood. His sister spilled this blood. This blood is the end of his life. Blackness washes over the small boy as he pitches forward: fainted face down on the befouled carpet.

The first thing he feels is cold. Not the stabbing knives he’d felt sobbing over his parents’ deaths at his sister’s hands. Just . . . cold. The small boy forces his eyes to open as he rolls over onto his back. Something soft and wet settles on his cheek. His brain aches. His lungs ache. Something soft and wet settles on his eyelashes. The boy blinks.

Her little brother struggles to sit up. The floor is still wet, but now also biting cold. The boy shivers as he looks around the room. His father’s flesh is blue where the caked on gore isn’t purple. The boy shivers. He tries to stand again, but when he presses his hands against the carpet the idea, “snow” fills his mind. He stands and looks around the room. Snow is falling: inside his dead parents’ room. The boy glances out into the hall where his life had been normal. The hallway was his past. He turns around and rubs his arms as he shivers, smearing the now-black blood of his father on his bare arms.

There is a woman standing near the open window. She is tall: taller than his mother, and pale. Her flesh is smooth and so white it is almost blue. She isn’t shivering even though it is snowing. Her simple cocktail dress is almost as white as she is. She is graceful as she moves from the window to kneel before the boy in the snow piling up on the gore-soaked carpet. He can’t tell the difference between her slender fingers on his cheek and the snow nipping at his cheeks. The boy can feel her hunger, though. He stares into her abyssal black eyes.

She is so careful: this woman. She says nothing, but the boy knows she sees his anguish. Her fingers are soft as she brushes his hair back. But they also burn his skin with cold. A lone tear crystallizes on the boy’s cheek as the woman leans in to kiss his quivering lips. The boy can feel the blood in his veins freeze when the woman’s soft lips press against his. The pain of ice shredding his viscera makes him want to scream, but he is frozen. His world goes white.

Hours later, when the police have broken down the small home’s front door they find the boy standing, catatonic, in that abattoir of a room. Despite the warm breeze ruffling the blood splattered curtains he is frigid to the touch. “At least it hasn’t started to smell in here yet. I’ve seen some sights, man. Some shit to shrink your dick but this . . . this takes the cake.” The only thing her little brother knows is her name means revenge and that his life ended hours ago.

 

[BlackWingAngel]

It wasn't long before temptation whispered darkly within the girl's ear.

"Why leave the brother alive...? Oh... I know... you wanted him to know the truth... but words weren't enough, so you drowned him in the blood of your birthgivers... good. Very good." The temptation smirked in satisfaction, his fingers brushing along her soft, bloody skin. "Such a mess... you will have to clean the bastardised blood from your flesh before I even consider rewarding you..." He purred, raking his fingertips up the girl's spine. She was slowly becoming seduction incarnate, if ever so perfectly.

His hands pinned her against his body, never letting her pull away even as he groped her breasts and rubbed her sex. "But, know this... your act will be rewarded greatly... you will know true freedom... and you shall forever be mine..." Slowly, the knife was taken from the girl's hand and, in it's place, a colaar locked around her throat. The rattle of chains echoed as he led her away, into the morning darkness.

"Come; I need to ruin you with my lust."

 

[wildkat]

[hope i can Join if not i will come back and delete this]
A girl was walking the streets of the night . She had heard screams coming down Road was going to go see what it was but she had seen cop cars drive by so she stayed away. She was wanted by the cops the only thing keeping her out of Jail was steaking to the shadows at night and stay in doors during the day like a vampire. But she was not a vampire well not yet she was a human girl who had been raped and tortured by her father who killed her mother right in front of her for trying to stop him from touching her when she found out by coming home early one day. She had scars all over her body from what he liked to do to her. One day he came home to have some fun with her but instead he was shot in the head by a gun she bought on the black market with his money. she left the house in flames so the cops wont find out who it was that killed the man. Well everything had been working out but then she had seen her face all over the tv's telling people she is wanted for questing about her fathers death.