Twisted fantasy

She had always had a penchant for what she called ‘the gruesomely hilarious’. Certain things would sate her, but every so often she had to be allowed to run wild, to truly release all that animalistic fury.

He often joined in; it was fun and if he was honest, he enjoyed watching her. She took such pleasure from the things she did, and where was the harm in joining her? He decided to treat her, a very special performance. No-one would know, and it would appeal to her enormously.

She was so excited that night, bouncing slightly as she tugged at his arm. Where are we going, my lovely? He only smiled, unable to help himself, and said You’ll see, dear heart. She squealed and resumed her exuberant bouncing, pulling another crooked grin out of him.

Dressed to kill, she certainly drew looks that night, as did he, but for very different reasons. She, because she was, quite simply, stunning, no matter what she wore. Tonight she had dressed up especially, and looks came from every quarter. No-one was quite brave enough to approach her; after all, she was clearly dangerous in a way that none could put their finger on and besides, there was that man she was hanging off…

Ah yes. Here, looks of admiration turned to looks of envy and hate as eyes focused on him, hating him for being the one she was clearly focussing her attentions on. He just smiled inwardly and let himself get lost in her excitement.

The club was underground, decked out resplendently in blacks and reds, satins and velvets. The whole place appealed to their tastes, and a live band added the cherry to the cake. He wandered over to the bar as she started to sway to the music, letting it in but not letting herself go completely. Retrieving drinks and the keys from the managers belt, he made his way over to her with a grin. She slid her hand behind his neck and pulled him close.

Is this my present, lovely? She murmured, lips brushing his ear softly. He nodded slowly and held the door keys up. She clapped her hands and giggled delightedly. You always know what I enjoy!

The club didn’t take long to fill; all they had to do was wait for the bouncers to start turning people away. The back door, the fire exit, they were already locked. The front door received his attention just as the band started up, and they were ready to play.

They moved to the dance floor together, grinning widely at a secret only they knew. He stroked his hand through her hair, feeling the razors hidden there. She licked the blood off his hand, and they started to dance.

Hours later and the place had been redecorated; intestines were looped around the disco ball, black tendrils uncurled in peoples drinks, and the floor was a slippery mess. She looked glorious, dripping with blood while stalking the final terrified victim; the barmaid. Fragile, innocent, she cowered against the door with a corkscrew in hand, her only defence. He laughed; he couldn’t help it, the girl looked so ridiculous. Her head came off her shoulders easily, flesh parting with a satisfied moistened rip.

She stood for a moment, head in hand, pondering. Finally, she went over to the lead singer of the band, arranged him in a seated position, and placed the girl’s head in his hand. She had always loved Shakespeare.

Now her gaze sought him out; now, she was even hungrier. He didn’t resist as she kissed him violently, nor did he struggle as she began to nip him hard enough hurt, to draw blood. He kissed her back, wanting her to sate herself, wanting her to enjoy him. She obliged ferociously, and he screamed, just for her.

The pain of the aftermath was exquisite.