Thursday, June 4, 2009

They'll never appreciate the beauty here.

Just stop and think about it a little before you put your cold, sweaty palm on that greasy doornob. Just stall time and wonder what your body will look like if he gets a hold of you this time. Wonder if hell leave enough unmarred flesh on your pathetic figure for anyody to ever recognize you.
"What is this pile of shit?"
"Iunno, let's make some hamburgers".

Slices in your back, pretty criss-cross. Slashing the back of your legs with his fucking badass machete, fuck yeah, like a dog well-trained and pissed off. Faceplant in a puddle of your own blood and start struggling to breathe as the blood exits your body.
He smiles above you, squatting, dark hair and green eyes, someone you would like to fuck. He places an elegant finger to his half-smile. "Shhhh".

The floor beneath you, you realize in your last moments in your mockery of a life, is a canvas. A blood-smeared, body-printed canvas. Medium? Your body. He raises the machete and says, with a smile, "I'll let you stroke it". You dirty bitch, your glazing eyes fall to his crotch. He'll fuck you baby, but you're not going to be alive to cum. Instead, he gently lifts your wrist and places it on the blade, dragging your fingertips lightly across it's edge, split, split, split. Blood pisses as the fingers split like venom sacks.

He leans over the canvas, pretty body of a pale bitch laying in her own crimson bath. She's dead, but the fun isn't over yet. He sits, flipping her onto her back, tearing the incision across her pregnant belly. A beautiful flow of organs rush into his lap, he feasts upon her insides. He's rather aroused, you see, and is almost tempted to take it out on the half-formed child. He brings the blade to her hips and removes the skin, the flesh, leaving the bone. "Now that's what I call love handles".

Gripping her to him, he pulls her slender legs over his shoulders and pounds into her cunt. "Damn bitch, missing out on all the fun. Why do they always die so soon?". He'd found her wet and ready, though that was probably due to all the blood splatter...

He leaves his official mark across her face, and with dripping cock in hand, he admires the final installment to his masterpeice. "Beautiful, they'll never appreciate the beauty here". He arranges the flowers across her corpse and kisses her cold lips. On his way out, he locks the door, no sense in allowing things to disturb her in her resting place.


  1. glrrrehhhh. 0_x
    well... it's art... but i've lost my appetite a bit too much to be aroused!
    Which i guess, is the point of this kind of work.

  2. OH MAN.
    That is just wrong.

    I said no more of this shit, didn't I?

    NO MORE.