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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1455506
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Horror/Scary · #1455506
Revenge leads to all sorts of things...How often dangerous voodoo?
Dangerous Voodoo

Her bright red lips pressed against the doll's ear and whispered silent instructions. She peeked through the grainy, smeared window, watching. The doll obediently spoke familiar words to his partner. She smiled, bright red lips revealing sharp yellow teeth. She whispered more commands to his partner's doll. The girl was equally as obedient.
         Her long bright red fingernails twirled the dolls around, in dance. They followed suit. She ran one long nail down his body, watching his response through the window. She watched his lips move, forming his own words. The bedroom was empty upstairs. How about a rendezvous?
         Her lips peeled back on pleasure- it was working. She lifted one yellow finger to raise him, helping him out. They were there.
         From the shadows, she watched them hit the bed. It wasn't good enough. She whispered threatening words into the doll's ear, listening to him repeat them. His partner's eyes widened in fear, clearly refusing. He drew his knife. Much better. One hand undid his pants, pointing the blade at the girl who lay on the bed dreadfully with the other hand. He set his knife on the nightstand and lay down to do his thing, to do her.
         She watched him rape her- of course not caring that she goaded him. She heard her screams, muffled through his rough fingers. She smelled her fear, embarrassment, and humiliation. She did nothing to stop it.
         When he was done, he stood up, did up his pants, and headed for the door. He paused, realizing he had left his blade. He turned around, ignoring the sobbing girl. He looked for his knife. Hadn't he left it on the nightstand?
         She spread her bright lips, the blade glinting in her fist. She stepped from the shadows. He stumbled. You. She raised her other hand, his doll tightly grasped around the waist. He whimpered and plead for his life. She hissed. He deserved no life. Not after what he did to her. She thrust his blade into his back and tore through the doll. He crumpled at her feet. Dead.
         The poor girl looked up at her, hysterical now. She threw the doll and knife back into the shadows. She smiled pointy yellow teeth. She didn't bother whispering any reassuring words into the girl's pretty, pierced ears. She merely approached her, eager to finish the job.
© Copyright 2008 Cherry Hawkins (ajt2010 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1455506