#i need to get better at drawing liquids ._. my blood is so lackluster!!! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

criohyer · 5 years

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the girl gone missing shows up but her mouth is forced shut with barb wire, jaw sewn up like a corpse in a morgue. she should have been found in a funeral home, too beautiful and too young to have been taken. she's merely the upshot of a girl that should have corroded and perished in a fire.

attired in a black suit he saunters towards her body that lays on a metal bench to be wrapped up. her flesh pale and gaunt, benighted in the toxic bane that killed her he observes her beauty. even still, even lifeless rid of rose coloured cheeks. he leans in, plants a kiss on her cold blue lips. this was the fate she should have been given. he whispers, i will let your body rot with your mind.

all and sundry had been convinced that she was six feet under by now in the middle of the forest without a trace never to be found. their lack of hope withered with her. if it weren't for her persistence she might have rot out there, become as moth eaten as her case file. lifeless and fading she stumbles into a hospital and takes everyone by surprise. the girl who won't die even though she was bound on that cabin bed just as well as she was with her death. she became the girl who escaped from her captor. it's a moving headline only she doesn't describe the unnamed man that the nation is terrified of. they all presume stockholm syndrome, that she will tell her story with time but her lips are glued in a fine line. why would she protect a monster?

she purposely seeks out danger. she abjures her own protection. she let herself be found by him, it was all ruse in her self ruination. she hadn't watched her back in these last few months, all she did was turn to face his suffering that she created. the screaming that caterwauled through the dirt and slithered through the trees, baying like a dog for her as he howls in pain. she quivers for that masterpiece, her core shakes as she's besotted in the blazoned lackluster gray leaden in plague of travailed torment. this is better than death, she gets to spread her own misery.

ragged respires neither draw nor swallow air, a pretense of life, he mocks life. he looms over the petrified she-demon, whose grasp on a switchblade relents. his own breaths hitch and hasten like a hare caught in a snare. he stood ‘fore her, makes her feel subservient. fear ripens, anticipated red and raw between teeth. mandible unhinges to rival lion’s yawn. a supernal timbre disturbs meal, has her spun around as she barks in his face. undaunted, unblinking, he stares at her.

asperity grows in his heart. hate blisters over love. she just wants the worst. she wants their bodies racked with aching crevices. steadfast, the blade imperiled in his thigh, he grunts but doesn't wince, there's silence. it's deafening. he hauls the edge from inside his flesh, crimson pours down its length and he suddenly assays it into the wall behind her, just nicking her cheek.

alabaster shadow augments the obsidian glow to his irises: an inklike immoral corruption takes over, the eyes that would defy the human race and not be encompassed in any mortal tongue. a blink, further blackness interchanged from his orbs, and the murkiness swallows the atmosphere with the darkness that grows within him. upturn of his nose in a scornful manner, withering to his audience: and drowning. running his tongue over the curvature of his front teeth, he sucked in a breath in somewhat of a hum as he let her essence permeate him and infuse him. he feels like he's in the corner waiting for her love, put on a chain in a byre for her to just beg for water. he feels his humanity sink through the floor beneath him.

slender digits grip at the thick mane of her hair and jerk it back, only to grab underneath the mandible of her jaw near the ball of her throat and slam her head against the brickwork again, almost hard enough for a concussion. a cold disgusted look upon his otherwise handsome features turns satiated, for his appetite is securing the best of him. his mouth turns in an enticed fashion. engorging his gluttony. "blood is the first warning to flaying the truth. i'm impatient." bleed. bleed for me. bleed inside me, leave me blind. give me that relief i need.

pale white pallid flesh tainted with the devil’s liquid, as deep as the seven hell’s deflowered the beauty of the rose. her soft tender petals of sweet yielding are tarnished, filth ridden by the crimson that stained her skin; the type of mark that embedded itself like a scar and his foul fingertips would be the final blemishing to smear her innocence.

she stares in the face of danger, taunts it, watches as the flames get higher. he admires arduous nature. for the refined sex and the she-serpent she is, she is raw. the product of a vehement coercion that is designed like pure craft of nature. she is a staggering gentle fawn in the woods to be prayed upon, nonetheless in spite of that she has been tempered by the earth’s evil. demonic being as such as his own. for this, she is everything a man like zadist could worship, adorn with wine-stained flourishes all the while mastering her on the way to fruition, eclipsing the supreme apex she could be mentored.

her strength in final stages she would be exquisite. the delicate docile structure of a woman turned beast. he was curious to wonder, would she be illustrated as an auxiliary masterpiece, prove herself to be even more deserving of grandeur? she stares him dead in the eyes, although averting her visage to be cast anywhere but on his own, avoidance perhaps to not stare the devil incarnate or be tempted to his handsome vessel would have been wiser.

she was the weak embodiment of a defenceless pure fawn, but the outlast of one. whereas, most refined beautiful creatures are destined for an ongoing slow eventual rot. she wouldn’t be foiled. there would be marks, purple and blue bruises left on her virtuous flesh in her warfare but she would overcome all odds.

he feels the knife against his abdomen slice near his bullet wound, warm liquid drips down his body. he grabs it from her grasp by taking it by the blade, it cuts him in his grip and blood drips onto the wooden floors. he doesn't tremble and instead finds delight in the blood.

"you missed the main artery." callous grip forcefully pulls her from the wall by her throat and onto the ground where he slammed her down again and moved on top of her holding her by the base of the neck. the knife he took is against her scar on her cheek. "you're beautiful, katerina. even with scars. i think they make you more breathtaking. your mother cut you first, i can do it again."

"i break, and i'll break more. i'll trap you in metal teeth. i'll beat inside you before i reach your heart. it's how i love. i destroy everything i touch. i will destroy you because you resist. fear is a communicable disease; it comes out in the sweat and passes from host to host. fear is an incendiary agent; it combusts with stupidity. you're not afraid of me so you ran because you're afraid of love? that's the same thing. you didn't rat me out to the cops, why? because you wanted me to be able to find you and i couldn't do that as long as i was imprisoned in a cell?"

he can feel tears wanting to crawl from beneath his eyes, breathing pattern irregular and his vocal chords tightening, he wants to scream in her face. "what do you f***ing want, katerina? how do you want me to touch you? do you want me to destroy you, hurt you? kill you? you wanted me to find you just to finish what i started?" he enjoys inflicting pain, he's never had his emotions involved however for his victim and she's given him a noose: he's hanging on every word she could say. "pain is as much a part of this life as the summer and the winter and the rain, and there is no greater idiot than the one who believed you can cure it. but i know that love can't just be pain. but you make it that. you want it to be painful. you want to be a coward most of all, afraid of the same thing you breed."

"you want mercy, baby? you don't like the taste of blood in your mouth, half choking on it? the metallic taste too strong? unable to tell me what you feel because you would rather die than tell me that. you choke on your own pride faster than breaking your neck on a noose."

bruises are formed around her neck and he changes his grip to turn her body around on her front against the wood, his weight crushing her as he lifts the hem of her blouse up and exposes her back area. using the blade he begins to cut a zed for the beginning initials of his name into her flesh. his other palm pressing into the center of her back to keep her still. her words are manipulating, cunning. he doesn't know what the truth is. even when a snake sheds its scales it still serpentines. "i want you to tell me how much you missed me."

"i want you to tell me every detail about your pain. how much it ate you alive. or was it nothing but satisfaction knowing i'm wallowing in my own need to have you? tell me, katerina. i need to know how much it hurt in the way you like."

he's in the corner waiting for her love. he needs to know that it hurt her in the way it hurt him. she f***s with herself more than anybody else.

she needs him to pacify her love, clarify their love before she will drown herself in it, even if he chokes.

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