Jenn Monty’s Picture Choice: Both
**So let me start by saying I’ve been working on a horror piece for submission. It has obviously swayed my writing into a dark and violent alley. As a warning, there is graphic death in this piece so feel free to stop reading. I’m not sure what has happened to my mind.
His fingers tightened. He enjoyed the squish of the flesh; it just kept giving and giving. He wondered how many minutes it would take; like that stupid bird on the t.v. How many licks. Except the bird had cheated. Maybe he should cheat; press down with his body instead of just his arms. Jeremy shifted.
The damn bird had been right. Three licks to get to the center. The thrill of bones grinding beneath his palms surprised Jeremy. He thought the sensation of pulsing blood under his fingertips was a rush. But that snap! Man, he hadn’t expected the excitement. He needed more. Jeremy looked down.
Blood, just a touch, dripped from the corner of her mouth. Was it from the bones Jeremy was pulverizing? Or had she bit her lip? He couldn’t tell from this angle. He leaned forward.
The arm bones pinned beneath his knees gave way. Jeremy shivered with joy. Better than all the imagining. So. Much. Better. Too bad she didn’t scream. That had ended a few minutes ago. Now, nothing seemed to be coming from her purple lips except spit and that beautiful string of crimson. Jeremy looked at her eyes. Glassy. And the tears had stopped. That wasn’t cool at all. She should be crying, at least. Come to think of it, he couldn’t feel the movement of blood any more either. Jeremy relaxed his grip. The girl’s head flopped to the left. Jeremy sighed.
That went way too fast. He’d have to pay better attention next time. Draw it out a bit. Not let the excitement rush him forward. He needed another doll. Jeremy stood up and grinned at the bruising where his knees had pinned her arms. And her neck - gorgeous stips of lavendar bloomed along the sides. He had made her prettier - all red and purple against the alabaster skin. That was a curious word, alabaster. He’d heard it in a song, maybe? Jeremy shook his head. Didn’t matter; time to go. He left the apartment and drifted down the hall to the front of the building. No one noticed. No one ever did. Except that girl; she had smiled at him. Smiled and taken off her scarf. He’d smiled back. He knew what she wanted. The exposed neck said it all.
Jeremy walked outside and into a cold rain. Cold and sideways. His mother would say God was mad at him, punishing him for what he’d just done. Even the birds kept their heads down in shame, she’d say. But he knew the cold and the wet would purify him; make him clean so he could meet another doll, another neck to paint. Jeremy headed back down to the corner coffee shop. He looked up briefly as he entered. A blond doll slid into a booth three tables in; she looked up and smiled. Smiled as she tugged at the edges of her scarf. Jeremy smiled back.
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Jenn Monty, also known as Brewed Bohemian, is a lover of Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Horror and anything with "Punk" in the name. She is an avid reader and writes flash fiction at www.BrewedBohemian.blogspot.com