A Short Story: A Woman's Journey?

“Away, I’ve always obeyed so I would never find out.” She snickered and looked towards me, her eyes piercing my very being. “You look like you’d make a fine specimen, shall I take a closer look at

“Well, just look at you,” she said laughing. “I’ve never seen you dressed up before.”

His words knocked the wind out of her and gnawed at her skin. Mara stood there with disbelief, disgust, and splashed of hatred written in her face. She stormed out of the room and bolted to the washroom. She stared at her reflection through her blurred vision and watched as her sadness melted into anger. It was only a small cut, so her tears came from the burn of rejection as oppose to the now-numbed laceration on her hand.

"It's a griffon, and you liked it well enough last night. You said that it would make you look different from everyone else if you got it," she replied.

Barely conscious now, Joan felt a knife cut into her skin on the back of her upper thigh. They were cutting off her skirts. She heard a belt drop, trousers crumple, and a man crouched behind her. The bare skin of his hairy thigh touch hers as he forced her knees open. Joan clawed at the gag in her mouth and somehow ripped it out. She screamed louder than she ever had in her life, but a kick to the head was the last thing she recalled before darkness took over.

"Well why are you here before I decide to hurt you." She growled and looked back to the screen. He glanced at the screen only do a second and he saw her face as she started on, a smile, not one of her fake ones she wears everywhere but a true smile he has not seen for a millennia.

She saw his pink flesh and the colors of his flesh blended together which create a magnificent image. She licked her dry lips as she desired more blood to come out. She took a step closer towards him, her hands moved up and down his skin to feel a vein as she has thought about cutting one open. She saw a fresh cut, she took her index finger and pressed it against his skin. She stabbed the scalpel into his skin but no blood came out. She felt disappointed and then she glanced around to find another knife. She looked around the small cluttered room with tension all around. She spotted another knife and touched the silver tip of the knife that reflected the light in the room, it cut through her gloves and her skin as she saw a tiny piece of blood coming out. She looked back at the man to see where she had cut before, she started to squeeze a small part of his arm. She found the biggest vein and cut it instantaneously. She started to giggle to herself and stopped

The flowers on her dress opened and closed with every word. They were alive. They lived off the despair and weakness of the poor girl. They soaked up her pain. They soaked up her misery.

Lucinda couldn’t see the face of the killer but knew exactly who it was. The moonlight shined directly on her and she saw the glint of the blade dragging across her skin. Blood oozed, bit by bit.

He kissed the top of her head and chuckled. “You’ve out-lawyered me, Gwen. I can’t think of any speech to top that. All I know is that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” Arthur took a step back and gazed at her. “I know you didn’t

“You’d be surprised at how much that costs, Your Grace, especially since you’ve worn it.”

For the next two hours, she suffered tortures no woman should endure. Her body cried out in protest. Her voice silent, stopped by the duct tape on her mouth.

She awoke with tears on her face as the final images of her slaughtering her best friend faded into memory. She numbly got out of bed to open her window, allowing the cold air to hit her clammy skin. She looked at her hands, almost expecting to see them stained red and sighed when pale flesh greeted her. Taking several deep breaths to compose herself, she stood and marched

The intruder managed to grab her wrist, tugging on it. He breathed on her neck, emanating a foul odour, and she spun around. With a force Vivienne did not recognize possessing, let alone a move she had never learnt, she struck.

“I love her...I mean I love her outfit. Ha.” I said, trying to play it off.