Dracina sat on the floor in the dark, eyes shining through it with an eerie glow. Her short red dress was pulled down around her waist, so that her breasts were exposed and her usually perfect hair was in a mess. Her nylons had a run down one one leg and her heels were lost somewhere in the room while she had been seducing her latest victim. She had been rough with the pretty thing; she was always rough.
But the meal didn't bring her as much satisfaction as it usually had. She couldn't stop thinking about the child she had lost ages ago or her old friend Miyabi Rivenblade whom she had a crush on in those simpler years. Nor could she stop thinking about Naelu Derrel, the pretty thing they had created together through a harmless prank yet had murdered Miyabi shortly after over a matter of lost pride. Dracina had developed a crush for her as well when she had been oblivious to the guilt of the murder, but the inevitable confession had hurt. Eventually Naelu had been returned to her original form and for all purposes of such was dead, even though that person may still be alive somewhere, sailing the seas.
The loss of all three was still unbearable to this day and somehow her victim had reminded her of them. The wound felt open and raw again.
The room around her was a mess, with pictures hanging crookedly or slashed, tapestries torn down, furniture toppled or smashed. Reminders of her fit after having finished draining the pretty thing on the bed and remembering. Such things shouldn't plague her anymore, she had made herself strong. It shouldn't still hurt. But it did. It did.
With a renewed spark of anger, she took up the straight razor she had dropped nearby after attempting to slit open her wrists only to watch the wounds close up again and stood up. She walked back to the dead woman on the bed, looked down at her nude form and raised the razor over her head.
The cuts came swiftly, slicing open perfect, pale skin, splitting open breasts, cheeks, lips, eyes, and stomach. In time the body wasn't even recognizable, and instead more closely resembled the grisly sight of fresh meat gone through a shredder. Still unsatisfied, she began stabbing the body with an even more frantic pace, the meat making a a sickening sucking sound with each movement. Because she had drank all the blood, there was none to make the deed any messier. Each stroke, she cried out, "WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?"
Finally she collapsed again and buried her face in the remains of the bed covers and sobbed red tears of blood. The tears of a vampire.
But the meal didn't bring her as much satisfaction as it usually had. She couldn't stop thinking about the child she had lost ages ago or her old friend Miyabi Rivenblade whom she had a crush on in those simpler years. Nor could she stop thinking about Naelu Derrel, the pretty thing they had created together through a harmless prank yet had murdered Miyabi shortly after over a matter of lost pride. Dracina had developed a crush for her as well when she had been oblivious to the guilt of the murder, but the inevitable confession had hurt. Eventually Naelu had been returned to her original form and for all purposes of such was dead, even though that person may still be alive somewhere, sailing the seas.
The loss of all three was still unbearable to this day and somehow her victim had reminded her of them. The wound felt open and raw again.
The room around her was a mess, with pictures hanging crookedly or slashed, tapestries torn down, furniture toppled or smashed. Reminders of her fit after having finished draining the pretty thing on the bed and remembering. Such things shouldn't plague her anymore, she had made herself strong. It shouldn't still hurt. But it did. It did.
With a renewed spark of anger, she took up the straight razor she had dropped nearby after attempting to slit open her wrists only to watch the wounds close up again and stood up. She walked back to the dead woman on the bed, looked down at her nude form and raised the razor over her head.
The cuts came swiftly, slicing open perfect, pale skin, splitting open breasts, cheeks, lips, eyes, and stomach. In time the body wasn't even recognizable, and instead more closely resembled the grisly sight of fresh meat gone through a shredder. Still unsatisfied, she began stabbing the body with an even more frantic pace, the meat making a a sickening sucking sound with each movement. Because she had drank all the blood, there was none to make the deed any messier. Each stroke, she cried out, "WHY DID YOU LEAVE ME?"
Finally she collapsed again and buried her face in the remains of the bed covers and sobbed red tears of blood. The tears of a vampire.