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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/315371
Rated: GC · Fiction · Death · #315371
Innocent yet proven guilty....
"Okay", she said, smiling. She stepped to the side and pushed the door backwards. The room had a fragrance of elegance and the decor designated an opulence far beyond what the eyes had seen before. She led the way into the area where the phone sat upon the table, smiled again, turned, and walked out of sight. The eyes saw the frame with the green trimming and the face there and they stayed transfixed upon it for the longest of moments before the feet took the body to it. Once there, the hand picked it up, and then placed it down where it belonged; upon the polished piano it sat, in kept company of other faces the eyes did not recognize. The heart inside the chest ached and then cried to itself but was ignored by the mind.

They were hazel eyes, behind spectacles that were scratched and old, and they looked upon the buttocks of the woman as she now stood behind the island, where cookie dough was spread here and there.

Her leisurely movements were stifled and she seemed not able to get her breath as the fingers gripped her neck from behind. The pressure exerted by they increased and she began to cry out and gasp for air but no human ears heard and no air came. The eyes looked at the profile of her frightened face and then into the brown mass of hair, streaked with flour as the hate coursed through the arms and into the fingernails as they sunk into the pale flesh on her neck. Red blood was drawn and the tongue licked it from its portal as she shivered and cried out, ever so briefly. Then the steel slid across that pale white flesh, swiftly and surely it made its trek, until the red and sticky fluid gushed forth, as water long kept under control but now released into freedom. The eyes saw her fall to the floor and then she began to writhe there, gasping ever so futilely for the breath that would not come again; gurgling. A puddle formed. The foot was raised high and then put with force into the side of the head lying still there. A sound like bones cracking, in a sea of mucus and bloody spittle, made it to the ears.

The mind then contemplated digging into the still warm flesh for disembowelment but instead put the feet into action and they returned to the adjoining room.

The frame with the familiar face was retrieved and taken to the now lifeless form; curled fetally upon the bloody and flowery, flour laden linoleum. It was left there inside the twisted form of what remained of the mouth.

A train screamed in the nearby distance.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/315371