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Hunting; In need of some R&R, Dahlia takes a tour of the Moon's capitol for some...fun...
Topic Started: Dec 30 2013, 03:21 PM (92 Views)
Dragon
Member Avatar
Dragon
OOC:
****CONTENT WARNING****
The following thread contains very explicit and, to some, disturbing imagery. Please proceed with caution in reading this post. You do NOT have to read it, as it is a post purely done for character development and to reveal how very disturbed the villain Dahlia really is. Reading this post WILL prove insightful to those curious about the character. The murder described within will be mentioned in other posts in less grisly detail for plot development.

You have been warned.

IC:



The sun, which was artificially enhanced on the Moon so as to give a more Earth-like atmosphere, was setting, creating a crimson slash against the stark paleness in the East, while the rest of the sky, now a dark blue, became shadowed with violet and deep gray. The sun seemed a gaping wound in the sky, seeping and fading into the darker blue to create a fascinating sight. The sexy woman that stepped out couldn't help but smile at the spectacular sunset. It reminded her of the spread of blood in water; the way it looked when spilling from an alabaster throat onto a rain-soaked street.

Though she doubted she was being watched by anyone of consequence, those that happened to look upon the woman that stepped out of the five-star hotel--the best the Moon had to offer--would not have seen any resemblance to the good Doctor save in hair and eye color. Where Dr. Fleischer would have had her hair pulled into a simple bun and braid combination for convenience, this woman had let her lavender hair fall freely, with the only containment being a thin, crimson head-band just behind her thick bangs. Her hair was fashionably curled, adding bounce and volume to the long, thick tresses.

She wore a mini-dress of black leather, the collar opened over her ample bust and revealing the top of a crimson, satin bustier. A silver chain gleamed around her neck, the locket and ring that she always wore on that chain quite visible just above her breasts. More leather laced up her legs in the form of shiny, thigh-high boots with two inch heels. Her perfectly manicured nails were as crimson as the bustier, as were her painted lips, and it was clear she was out for a date. The mini-dress had no sleeves, but curved around her slender neck in a halter-top; it seemed a second skin with the way it flowed down her body and hips to end just past her shapely rear. It was an outfit Lorelei Fleischer would never wear, and anyone that knew her would swear to it being completely out of character for the tasteful Doctor.

Of course, Dr. Fleischer was visiting with friends on the opposite end of the city at that precise moment, and she was staying in a much more low-key hotel than the one this lavender-haired goddess had stepped out of, a large, black purse hung over her left shoulder and adding to the air of fashion and wealth that radiated from her. She turned from surveying the bleeding sky and joined the rest of the high-class passersby, mingling with them as if she'd lived amongst them her entire life. Though some might have considered her choice of clothing risque and daring, especially if she had been anywhere ELSE in that city, here she looked like many of the other women, if a little more sexily attired.

Her first stop for the night was a nearby bar--she knew better than to seek what she desired at the hotel bar--and once inside it didn't take long for several people to take note of her. Many of them approached and flirted, buying her drinks, and she returned the sentiments with a smile and an air of thanks that suggested they were only doing what was right and proper--what she deserved. Yet of all the men and women that approached her, none of them struck her as the ideal target for what she was after. An hour in she was beginning to think it was time to leave and try a new locale when, at last, a young, dark-haired youth stepped into the bar. He had an air of innocence about him that screamed--at least to her--of naivety and gullibility. It was exactly what she wanted, and the moment his shy gaze landed on her she offered him a winning, come-hither smile.

Though it took a bit of distance-flirting, it wasn't hard to convince the young man to come to her table and talk with her; and once there, it didn't take long to convince him to follow her outside. Subtle touches of her fingernails to his cheek, coquettish tosses of her head, and a not-so-subtle game of footsy soon had him as putty in her hands. "Maybe we should find somewhere more...private..." she whispered into his ear, performing the action by leaning across the table. The man shivered and she smiled; his nod of agreement wasn't even necessary. Once outside, she led him to a dark and deserted alley, giggling like a foolish school-girl as she glanced around uncertainly at the entrance.

"Here?" he swallowed a little nervously and she smiled sweetly, nodding as they slipped into the shadows.

"Yes, here...you're not afraid of getting caught, are you?" by then she'd pulled him close and was nibbling at his neck. His hesitation soon melted and he moaned a negative, biting at his lip. Strong hands were already roaming over her body, sliding up the slick leather of her dress and over the tops of her semi-exposed breasts. His lips soon danced across her bare shoulders, soft and hot on her skin, and though her body responded as he'd want it to, the woman couldn't help but feel bored. She let the charade continue a few more moments, getting the man good and riled up, before pulling back and staring into his eyes.

"What's your name?" she whispered, blushing prettily, as if embarrassed to be asking such a question--or perhaps embarrassed that she hadn't asked it before then. He grinned, the dark look in his eyes so sure of his success, so sure of where things were leading.

"Mark..." he practically growled--or, at least, he attempted to. It fell a little flat, making it clear he wasn't as experienced as he'd like her to think.

"Mark..." she breathed his name, and in the same instant activated the artifact her Queen had gifted her. The man went rigid in her arms, his eyes widening and going blank in the same instant. His arms had dropped to his sides and he stood, a living zombie beneath the weight of her stare. She smiled sweetly and leaned back against the building, surveying the man for a moment.

"You'll do, I think. You see, Mark, I need a distraction. Something that will gain the right kind of...attention...while I'm working. I'm sure you understand." The man didn't even blink in response. "So...here is what is going to happen." She continued, "You, my dear Mark, are going to find somewhere else to play...somewhere with lots of people; lots of young, happy people. I think it would be best if you portrayed more confidence, though. It wouldn't do if you couldn't get a little attention from the right girl, after all. If you see someone you like, pursue her...you'll have all the charm, class, and confidence you never had before...and then, when she's fully seduced by your new-found skill in flirtation, you will kill her, right there, where everyone can see it happen. Do you understand?"

The simulacrum nodded slowly, and the lavender-haired woman smiled with pleasure. "Good." she pushed away from the wall and pressed close to him, looking up into his pale brown eyes. Still smiling, she reached up and tapped the man on the brow with a single finger. A flash of black light slipped from her into him and he flinched; for the briefest of moments a black, inverted crescent appeared on his brow, and then vanished. Smiling softly to herself, she slipped past Mark and headed out of the alley. He would remain in a trance for another five minutes before waking with the urge to follow her orders, all without remembering anything of their encounter. It was a nifty trick, and one she quite liked.

A few blocks later, the woman hailed a cab and slipped in, giving the driver directions to a well-known club frequented by the wealthy and amorous. It was an off-shoot of a popular night-club on Venus, and the moment she gave the name the man at the wheel knew this woman was looking to party.

And this was true, though if the driver had any knowledge of what type of 'party' this woman was after, he would have either pissed himself, or fainted of fright. And if he hadn't, if he'd been brave enough to defy this beautiful temptress and risk his skin, he would have made an immediate detour from their destination and headed straight for the nearest police station to deposit the crazy woman at their doorstep. But he was not gifted with such insight, and seeing the chance at a lofty tip, he made great haste to deliver his passenger to the very doorstep of the club she wished to attend.

Within the hour, the beautiful woman was flashing a smile at the bouncer and being admitted without a second glance. She slipped into the building, a soft smile on her lips as she surveyed the menu before her. There were people everywhere, and most of them noticed her as she stalked deeper into the club. She passed tables and booths meant for socializing and snacking on whatever the place had on the menu, and continued past the more comfortable lounging area where people were in various forms of undress. Eyes caressed her as she walked through the building and headed for the dance floor, some stopping to stare, others offering the barest of glances before averting their gaze, unsure of the fear that had suddenly gripped them. There was a predator in their midst, and only a few of the gazelles knew what they were looking at. Unfortunately, none of them were smart enough to stop the lioness, or even flee; rather, they ignored her, as if that might protect them from whatever she had to offer.[/big]
Edited by Dragon, Apr 2 2014, 11:20 AM.
 
Dragon
Member Avatar
Dragon
OOC: Part Two. This is the song she is singing. If you can get it to repeat, it’s rather interesting to read the post to it!

Dahlia's Song

****CONTENT WARNING****
The following thread contains very explicit and, to some, disturbing imagery. Please proceed with caution in reading this post. You do NOT have to read it, as it is a post purely done for character development and to reveal how very disturbed the villain Dahlia really is. Reading this post WILL prove insightful to those curious about the character. The murder described within will be mentioned in other posts in less grisly detail for plot development.

You have been warned.


IC:




"P-please...d-don't hurt m-me..." a strangled sob escaped the young woman, her rose-colored lips trembling in the meager lamp light of the shadowed alley. This was a rather deserted section of the city, at least at this time of night. Mostly filled with warehouses and storage facilities, it was the perfect locale for the lavender-haired woman's plans. What few people patrolled the area had already been taken care of; they were now sleeping soundly on their watch so as not to become an interruption. Amazing how easy it was to account for people's precautions...amazing that after thousands of years and the best upgrades in technology, methods for surveillance hadn't really changed.

"Teehehehehe." A high-pitched, girlish giggle was the only response the woman received. The owner of the voice bounced into the light of the single lamp, stopping a few feet from the terrified woman to gaze down on her. Her chosen prize was a beautiful blonde with a round face and large, blue eyes. Her hair was pulled into a simple braid, the bangs framing a large brow with artfully swept, pale eyebrows. Though she looked very little like the woman she wanted it to be, it was enough of a resemblance to satisfy Dahlia.

"P-please...I'll do wh-what-ever y-you w-want..." the poor woman didn't remember how she'd gotten in that alley. Her last memory was of the beautiful, lavender-haired woman approaching her on the dance floor and giving her an incredibly promising, heated look. It had been a bit more than she could stand, and within a few moments they were dancing...drinking...after that everything was a blur until the moment she woke up lying on the surprisingly dry concrete. Though she could feel the grit of the stone beneath her skin, she couldn't seem to move anything below her neck.

"Don't try to move...It won't dooo yooou aaannnyy goo-ood!" the girl sing-songed with childish candor, ending on a high-pitched twitter. "Right, brother?" the woman managed to get her head turned so she could look up at the child-like person talking to her. Though the voice that came from her perfectly painted lips suggested that of a seven-year-old, the woman standing over her and looking off to the left, as if actually talking to someone else, was much older. She still wore the leather outfit revealing her red bustier, and from this angle the blonde could see the red lace panties that matched it. Before it had all seemed like candied-apples--sweet and tempting--but now she could only think of blood. It sent a shiver through her that had nothing to do with the cold stone.

"You see, I injected you with a verrrry nifty little drug, riiight in your spine." The woman turned away from the invisible entity she had been speaking to and let her gaze land on the blonde, once again. She played absently with the ring looped on her necklace. "It's one of my own devising! You can't move. You see, there's this point in your spine, just along the C-4 vertebra, which can completely paralyze the body but allow respiratory and pulmonary functions to continue normally. If injured JUST right, you can even retain complete sensory awareness of the limbs! Isn't that just FASCINATING! So, you see, using this knowledge and the nifty drug I devised, I have completely paralyzed you from the neck down; but you can feel..." as she said this, the lavender-haired woman gently nudged her victim with the toe of her boot, causing her to twist at the waist so she was now lying half on her back rather than on her side. Her hips were still cocked at an angle, but now she could look down on the woman's pale face.

"Ah, you look so frightened...and the fun hasn't even begun! Hehehehe." The blonde made an artful arrangement--white silk spread out beneath her against the black stone of the alley, blonde hair sprayed across pale skin, bright blue eyes filled with tears that glistened in the light of the lamp and the distant, glowing Earth.

Dahlia spun in place for several moments, her hands outstretched and her hair flying out around her; when she stopped her long tresses continued to spiral around her lithe frame and her hands were instantly clasped at her back. Orchid eyes gleamed and she tittered, again. For a moment she simply stood there, staring down at her victim, and then she turned abruptly and vanished into the shadows at the edges of the lamplight.

Though the woman tried to struggle, there was no moving her limps. She could feel them as dead weight, betraying her desire to flee by remaining motionless despite her best efforts. The most she managed was to toss her head to and fro, and even that came with difficulty. "Help! Someone please help me!" she screamed, her voice echoing off the walls, and in response she could hear the sound of heels clicking on the pavement.

"Oh! Oh do you hear that, Brother? Our little dove is singing!" someone clapped excitedly and there was the sound of shoes clicking, as if they were hopping in place. The blonde's head lolled as she tried to find the source of the noise, blue eyes wide at the sight of the woman returning from the shadows. She was carrying her huge, black purse, one arm looped through the straps so that she could clap her hands together with glee while she bounced.

"What do you want with me?" tears streamed down the woman's face, but it did nothing to ruin her make-up, a sure sign that it was permanent, or at least semi-permanent. So many women were doing that, these days, just tattooing their next look to their skin. It was sick, at least in Dahlia's opinion...but, then again, so was much of what the universe was going through.

"Oh...I just want to play a game!" the childlike woman moved toward her, swaying as she closed the distance between then. She stopped when she reached the woman's head and crouched before her, legs closed and arms looped around them so that her purse rested on the street at her feet. She frowned softly down at the blonde, her purple gaze almost concerned, then the frown was replaced with a happy smile and she tittered, again.

"You'll love it, I swear! You wanna see my toys? I love my toys..." she backed up a few steps with a shuffling of feet and promptly sat on the ground, her legs stretching out in front of her in a V. Humming softly to herself, the lavender-haired beauty began rummaging through her purse and pulling out items that only made the blonde whimper further. Coils of thick, black rope were the first to appear and be set gently beside the woman, followed by a rather large roll of leather. It was tied off on two sides and clearly very old, though the way it gleamed in the light suggested it had been meticulously cared for. She set this with reverence on her left side before fishing through the bag some more. A small, metal box also appeared to be set beside the leather case, and then a tiny make-up and hair kit. It was like any kit you could by in a beauty salon; in fact, the woman was certain she had that same one.

"What...what are you..."

"I told you, silly! We're going to play a game!" the woman carefully pushed off the ground with one hand and pulled her feet underneath herself to stand. Bending down, she grabbed the rope and began to untie and unravel the coils, revealing that it wasn't as thick as the prisoner originally thought. Rather, it was fairly thin, but incredibly long. "I always keep one hundred feet of rope in my bag...you never know when you need some rooope! Course, this is the nice stuff. Silk! Seeeee!" the woman giggled as she approached to crouch in front of the blonde, once again, running a length of black silk across her cheek. In response she trembled and screamed, unable to help herself.

"Tsk tsk...didn't I tell you? No one can hear you...we're completely alone! Well, except my brother...Say hi Brother!" the girl glanced over her shoulder, waiving into the darkness beyond the lamp with one hand, while the other instantly went to her necklace. The smile on her face was full of innocent happiness that sent a new fear through the blonde.

"Please, let me go..." blue eyes searched the darkness, but she couldn't see any brother. There seemed to be no one in that alley but herself and this insane woman. Yet, it was so very dark beyond the lamplight...anyone could be hiding in those shadows, waiting to pounce.

"I'm afraid I can't do that...you have a lot to account for!" the girl was humming, again, only now she was going to work on the woman's wrists. She could feel the rope sliding across her skin, soft and sweet like the caress of a lover. Though she tried to struggle, her limbs still refused to budge.

"NO! STOP IT! PLEASE!" the blonde screeched, but no one came to her rescue, and Dahlia continued to hum softly; the melody was haunting and slow, like a strange sort of lullaby, though it only added to the woman’s terror. Ignoring her screams, Dahlia tied off the woman’s wrists with expert precision--enough to hold, but not to cut off circulation--and then rushed away, skipping to the back wall only two feet from where the woman was sprawled. Climbing anchors had already been secured into the stone of the dead-end, and with a deft movement of fingers she had the rope sliding through the anchors and was soon walking away from the wall, pulling the black silk with her arms held out before her and using a strength that belied her small frame.

"AHHHHHHH!" the woman slid across the pavement with surprising speed, slamming into the wall with a meaty thud. The sudden resistance yanked back on Dahlia's arms, but she stumbled only slightly before pushing forward, again, humming even louder. The woman slid slowly up the wall, her arms spreading out to either side until they were in a large V above her hanging head and her feet dangled only a few inches from the ground. Glancing over her shoulder, the woman's eyes sparked and she smiled.

"That'll do!" she sang, turning in place to carefully approach the hanging woman. "This is a nifty bit of bondage! See, I'm going to use your own weight to keep you in place on the wall!" as she said this, she released the right rope, allowing the woman to sag on that side, but the left remained tight and she soon had the other end of the rope pulled through the bottom anchor, then tied around her right ankle, pulling the two limbs tight. She repeated the process on the other side, creating an X at the woman's back that somehow managed to leave her body spread eagle across the wall.

The blonde's head dangled and for the first time she got a good look at the clothes she was wearing. "What...what is this?" perhaps it was absurd to be asking about what she was wearing at a time like this, but she had never before seen the white gown that now hugged her body. Or, at least, she'd never had it in her wardrobe. Swathes of white fabric flowed down her legs to pool at the ground beneath her, suggesting the gown had a long train. The top hugged her bust and she could barely catch a glimpse of gold around her breasts. Something about the outfit seemed very familiar...but she couldn't place from where.

"Oh! Do you like it? I hope so...it fits you so perfectly...I know it's your favorite." The woman-child giggled, again, and with an effort of will the blonde lifted her head to find her attacker. Dahlia had turned her back to her victim to grab the metal case she'd pulled out of her black bag and open it, pulling out something that gleamed in the light. She turned to approach the woman hanging on the wall, once again, and blue eyes widened at the sight of the rather massive syringe that the lavender-haired monster extracted from the case. It was filled with a clear fluid and, as she watched, Dahlia carefully expelled the tiny air bubbles from inside the glass tube, sending a tiny stream of liquid into the air.

"You're going to feel a slight...pinch..." it was the only warning she had before the petite beauty slammed the half-inch needle into her chest, bringing a blood-curdling scream from her mouth. If she'd been able to move, her whole body would have convulsed with fear. She had to content herself with shaking her head and tilting it back, slamming once, then twice into the stone wall behind her. The second impact left her seeing stars and she heard her assailant sigh softly.

"Now, now, that won't do...you'll give yourself a headache doing that!" the prisoner's vision blurred, but somehow she managed to stay awake. There was a heavy, stinging heat pulsing through her body, starting from the throbbing between her breasts and racing through her veins.

"What...did you give me?" her voice was hoarse from screaming and she thought she tasted blood.

"Oh, it's just some harmless adrenaline! It'll keep you awake for all the fun we're about to have!" the girl tilted her head to one side as she said this, surveying her handiwork for a moment before turning and bouncing back to where she'd left her purse. She fiddled with the vials in the metal case a moment longer, then set them aside.

"My heart...it's pounding..." the woman whispered, shock trying to take over, yet not succeeding. She felt jittery, yet she couldn't move...she wanted to scream, but she only managed a strange sort of hysteric sound in the back of her throat--half sob, half giggling.

'Spi mladyenets, moi prekrasny,
bayushki bayu,
tikho smotrit myesyats yasny
f kolybyel tvayu.'


The soft voice that filtered into the night air followed the same melody that the girl had been humming, earlier; that haunting sound silenced the hanging woman as nothing else could. Her breath hitched at the strange, foreign words that filled the darkness around them, somehow making it thicker, more foreboding. The light almost seemed to recede with the words of the woman's strange lullaby. Unable to help herself, the blonde lifted her head, once again, to see what her captor was doing, now, but all she could really see was the woman's leather-clad back. She was crouched, again, and clearly looking at something, intently, but she couldn't quite see what it was.

Dahlia stood, suddenly; the movement was so fast she had become a blur to the blonde's gaze. Another scream escaped her throat, unbidden, and a new set of tears poured from her eyes, strangled sobs escaping her throat. Her chest moved up and down and her body trembled with the force of her tears, but her arms and legs refused to move. She could feel the pressure of her own weight tugging at her restraints, feel bruising blossoming beneath the silk ropes, and yet the circulation was never cut off. Somehow the cuffs Dahlia had created with the rope did an amazing job at distributing the weight evenly across her wrists and ankles and yet did not tighten down on the limbs at all.

"Hush, hush..." the singing had stopped for a moment while Dahlia whispered this small admonishment, her tone actually soothing. "There's no need for all that crying...you see, you brought this all on yourself, sweet, sweet queen..." she was holding the leather bound bundle in one hand, the other rising to gently brush blonde bangs from the woman's sweat-beaded brow. "You just had to unleash your power on this world...you called it a gift but...but I know the truth. You played God...you dared to defy the laws of nature, now you must suffer for it...suffer for all the children that will never see Heaven...you are not God, sweet Queen. The power you wield is that of Satan...only Satan would deny the children Heaven..."

"What are you talking about!" the blonde screamed past her sobs, terror pushing her to the limits; yet her heart continued to race and her body tingled with energy she could not expel. "Please! I'm not God! I don't have any power!"

"No...no you don't...and I'm going to prove it to you." Dahlia smiled sweetly, pressed her fingers to her lips, and then pressed them to the woman's brow, depositing an almost tender kiss. Only then did she step back and untie the cords wrapped around the leather case she held. The leather unfurled in her hands, spreading out two feet in length and revealing the gleam of pale, cold steel in the lamplight. The blonde sucked in her breath at the sight of all that cold steel; it looked sharp and deadly.

"Wait! P-please! I...I'm not the Queen! I'm N-NOT! PLEASE! DON'T DO THIS!" but Dahlia ignored the screams, the pleas for mercy, and the wretched sobs. While the woman cried and begged for her life, the lavender-haired demon sung her sweet lullaby and carefully pulled out her first toy--a standard surgeon's scalpel. She examined the edge in the light, gently running her thumb over the sharpened steel, then smiled as she approached the woman she’d trussed up so nicely.

The blade bit into the skin at her wrist with amazing ease, and at first the woman didn't even feel it. However, as Dahlia pulled the weapon slowly down her arm, splitting the layers of skin to reveal the untouched muscle beneath, the initial lack of feeling retreated to be replaced with white-hot agony. Her mouth split wide, her voice cracking as she tore her tonsils with the force of her howling. The sweet echoes of pain sent a thrill of pleasure through Dahlia, bringing a grin to her painted lips that didn't hinder her soft singing, in the least. She continued to pull the scalpel down the length of the captive's arm until she reached her armpit, at which point she pulled the blade across the chest to create the first branch of the Y. Circumventing the fabric of the gown and, thus, the breasts in a rather unorthodox fashion, so as to leave them unblemished, she stopped only when she reached the woman's sternum. The gown cut low enough across the bust to allow her to cut the flesh without damaging the fabric.

A small amount of blood oozed from the slender seam she'd opened up in the woman's arm and upper chest, the muscle and fully intact tendons gleaming wetly beneath the layers of skin and tiny amount of fat that acted as insulation. Yet there was a lot less blood than one might expect. A bit more expelled from the chest, where the blood vessels were more easily damaged; a small amount had begun to stain the white silk of the gown. Smiling at her handiwork, the beautiful monster repeated the process on the other arm. Somehow the blonde found the energy to let out another scream, but it wasn't nearly as powerful as the first, and it ended in a heavy, deep-throated moan.

With careful precision she ran the scalpel up the center of the woman's throat, just piercing the skin, then veered off to come around the crease of her chin to stop beneath her right ear before mimicking the action on the left side. Her cuts were perfectly symmetrical, damn-near identical and clearly the work of someone with a lot of skill. That done, she returned her attention to the sternum, eyeing the fabric there, critically, before turning her back on her victim. Taking hold of the handle of her blade with her mouth, she pulled out a pair of sheers from her satchel and immediately went to work cutting up the length of the gown. It was a lot of fabric, but this did not seem to deter her intentions. She worked just as meticulously and slowly as she had with the blade, bringing the scissors up the woman’s body so that the blade actually caressed the skin of her leg the whole way up, humming softly the whole time. Dahlia ran the back of the sheers over the woman's thigh in a move that could have been considered almost sensual, then slipped them up across her belly and straight to her breasts. She left the gold medallions of the gown intact; it was the only thing keeping the fabric on her body at that point.

"There...Teehee!" she managed the girlish exclamation without losing the knife from her lips, promptly following the statement with a quick bounce and spin that brought her back to a crouch before her equipment where she promptly returned her sheers to the little slot they belonged in. Then she was standing, again, but this time as she took in the woman hanging before her, she frowned with thought.

"Ah, it's already wearing off..." she spoke around the scalpel, like a smoker speaking around their cigarette, "Aren't we a little drama queen?" she sighed and pulled the scalpel from her mouth, this time tucking it behind her ear like a demented flower. Once again she grabbed the syringe, which she had refilled before starting, and once again she plunged the needle into the woman's chest. A new cry broke free from the blonde's lips and her eyes widened. Drool spilled from her mouth even as she screamed, a new rush of adrenaline bringing her out of the comatose state she'd been slipping into.

"That's better...now, sing for me sweet Queen! We have only just begun!" once again she began to sing that haunting melody, the Russian somehow echoing on the air around them. She went to work with the scalpel, this time bending over to take the blade to the inside of her prey's left leg, at her ankle. The movement up the woman's body was much quicker, this time, but no less precise or fluid. She ran the blade all the way up to the junction of her thigh and torso, stopping just inside the bikini-line before repeating the process in the other leg.

Minutes passed like hours, hours like days, and every time she came to the brink of passing out the madwoman would inject her with more adrenaline, preventing her from ever crossing over into dark oblivion. The sensation of the skinning knife--a slender piece of steel so thin it might have been a strand of hair--pulling her flesh away from her body was unlike anything she could ever have described; it tugged in ways that went beyond the surface, leaving her raw and burning all over. Every fiber of her being was on fire; every nerve screamed hot misery, and yet she could not escape it.

Then came the real torture. The bone saw ground into her chest, separating the ribs from her sternum, and all the while the woman sang that sweet, soft lullaby interspersed with soft giggles and tiny exclamations of glee and soft moans of bliss, as if unwrapping a Christmas gift.

"Brother! Brother! Her heart beats so fast! Look at the muscle contract..." a strange sensation it was, to feel the tips of the woman's fingers touch something that never should have felt such things. She should be dead...it was the thought that passed through her mind even as the child-like creature--for there was no way this person was human--stepped back to gaze up at her, a sudden pout coming to her lips. The monster's bloody hand went to her necklace to fiddle with the ring and locket. "Brother says my play time is up..." she gave a petulant sigh, then turned and began to rummage through her tools, once again. When she stood back up, she was holding the scalpel in one hand and a strange, scoop-like object in the other. The tiny scoop looked like a serrated spoon. If she'd still had her tongue, she might have asked what it was for, yet somehow...somehow she knew...
Edited by Dragon, Apr 2 2014, 11:22 AM.
 
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