Will You Be My Killingtine?

 

Roses are red…violets are blue…I like blood and so do you! That special day is here—the time of year when love birds exchange boxes of chocolates or romantic pieces of cardboard, because nothing says ‘I love you’, like a holiday themed card from the grocery store.

Two horrifically frisky stories stain this killingtine: a vengeful lover uses a special ingredient to fill tasty chocolates, but who will get the last bite? Indulge yourself, then read a tale about a couple’s blood-filled drama. One thing is certain: happy endings come in many forms.

 

Story 1.

Cherry Flavored Death

 

Rita glides her finger along the edge of a blade, and then tucks the knife inside a drawer. A shadowy figure leans against the door frame.

“How did I know you’d be here?”

She sucks on her finger—the taste of red biological syrup seduces Rita’s taste buds.

“Oh…Ralph…you found me…what are you going to do about it?” Rita says as she bends over the bed. Ralph loosens his tie, then shuts the door. He drags a finger down her cold spine while his heart pumps to the rhythm of lust. Rita swallows a mouthful of laughter.

“Tell me how bad you want it. Go on. Tell me. Yeah, that’s right, just like that, tell me, tell me how bad, yeah, just like that.” Ralph says. Rita rolls her eyes. “Oh…Ralph…you have no idea how much I need you right now…”

Ralph unbuckles his belt. “Really? Are you sure about that?”

Rita hangs her head and sighs. “Yup. I’m so sure right now.”

She grabs him by the throat, then pushes him against the banister. Rita straddles across his lap while revealing silk ribbons from underneath the sheets. She constricts a ribbon around Ralph’s wrist while dragging a tongue across his face. Rita ties the other wrist, and then lays her lips below the neck. Each kiss bring her lower…and lower…and lower…

…and…

…a little lower…

…Rita dismounts Ralph, spits on the carpet, then picks up a box of chocolates: a variety sampler pack.

“Oh, honey, are these for me? You know how I love chocolate!” She says.

“What? Right. Ummm. Yup. Have at ’em. All yours.” Ralph says. Rita lays the variety pack of chocolates back on the dresser, and then opens the drawer. She reveals a small purple box.

“I’m sure this belongs to me, too, right?”

Ralph’s mouth drops, but no words come out.

Rita opens the purple box. “Oh, are you sure this is for me? The ring is too big.”

Ralph wiggles his wrists as Rita dips a hand back inside the drawer. He shakes the banister, but the silk constrictors don’t let go.

“What is that? What are you doing?” Ralph says.

“Wanna see my new toy?” Rita asks.

“Yes…I mean…no? No! Keep your toy to yourself, Rita.”

Ralph’s eyes grow large as he stares at the biggest knife he has ever seen in his entire life.

“Do you like what you see? It’s not just big, either! Also sharp. Very sharp. Very. Unlike some people around here.”

Rita raises the very big knife above her head. “Oh, pardon me. I’ll just be a moment” she says, and then leaves the bedroom. Ralph flails his pale legs across the bed while shaking the banister.

“I need to get out of here. She’s gonna kill me this time, I know it, I just know it! Stupid. You really done it this time. Fuck me. Is this happening? This can’t be happening. Are you serious? This must be a dream…I’m going to wake up any second…no…no…no…this ain’t right…I’m gonna die right here in this damn bed…this can’t be happening…this is happening…why me…I didn’t mean to do any of this…okay…there’s still time…just apologize…yeah! Ask her to marry you…rings don’t need to fit…ummm…fuck!”

Rita strolls across the bedroom with a measuring cup in one hand and a very big knife in the other. She raises the glass cup toward a flickering light-bulb.

“Say, honey, sugar, sweetie -pie, listen, I been doin’ some thinking…” Ralph says.

She rips the very big knife across his neck—the metal serrated teeth bite, chew, and rip their way through the fleshy terrain. A gory crevasse gargles as a pool of black vitality fills approximately 1/4 a cup.

“You should have worn protection, Ralph.” Rita says.

Sometime Later…

 

Rita whistles while walking down a sidewalk. She opens a small wooden fence, and then strolls toward a brick house. Rita places the chocolate variety pack on the welcome mat, knocks on the door, then prowls toward the bushes near an antique birdbath. A large window reveals a tall brunette opening the front door.

“Hello? Hello? Is anyone there? Oh…”

She picks up the box of chocolates, and then opens a small card tucked within a gold ribbon.

 

Dear Susie,

My love for you can’t be tamed.

Meet me at my place.

Tonight: 8pm

Open the box

and

indulge.

 

Susie opens the box of chocolates.

“One bite won’t kill anybody.” She says. Susie chews through a chocolate square—red nougat haunts the inside of her mouth. The tangy confectionery drips down the side of her lips as Susie swallows a mouthful of Ralph.

 

Written By

Click Here & You’ll Be Fly!

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Story 2

Dirty Little Secret

 

“I’m sorry, baby. You have no….. heart.”

“What?” She looked up at him; her mouth trembled.

“Look, you’ve got a great body, and your ass is round and sumptuous…” There was no mistaking the pride in his voice.

“Sumptuous?” Despite the agony which burned like acid in her chest, she laughed. Tears filled her eyes, and she recognized what a conceited fool he was. “I just told you I loved you. Where is my love coming from then, Jasper, if I have no heart?”

Rising from the bed, she wrapped his shirt tightly around her and marched towards him. “If I have no heart,” the words were repeated through gritted teeth, “how can I love you?”

A groan escaped him. “We’re having a great time, Marla! Why do you have to spoil it?”

Jasper grabbed a sweater from the closet and pulled it on. Admiringly, he peered into the mirror.

Their eyes met in the looking glass. Green daggers hurled towards her from his steely gaze. “You need to go home now. My wife will be here in an hour.”

“Fuck you.” With clenched fists, Marla turned and stumped into the master bathroom. Jasper heard the door slam, then the sound of the shower running.

He tore the sheets off the bed and carried the laundry to the washer down the hall. In a large cabinet, there were clean blankets. It took a few minutes to make the bed, but he was pleased at the results – the sheets looked immaculate. To tuck and primp were his forte. After all, he was one of Manhattan’s best plastic surgeons. Marla’s ass certainly benefited from his talents.

“Marla.” He scowled. What the hell was taking her so long?

“Open this –“

The bathroom door swung open. The shower was still on, and the pelting water was torrid. As Jasper entered the spacious room, a humid fog draped over him; it was an impenetrable blanket which shrouded his view. He squinted his eyes and stretched out an arm.

“Marla?”

There were swift, sharp sounds; blades slicing through the thickened air. He screamed as three digits from his outstretched hand made contact with steel. An insufferable pain radiated from the mangled stumps. The severed fingers fell with soft plops onto the tile floor. Blood gushed from his wounds, and he collapsed; shrieking.

Down on the floor, the fog was less dense. Jasper rocked back and forth; cradling his cleaved hand. He whimpered. Through the thinning smog, he spotted Marla’s prone body. There was an oozing, bloody hole in her chest; the size of a grapefruit. The green tile floor was saturated in red molasses.

“Hello darling.” His wife crouched down next to him with an amused smile. He screamed and wet his pants.

“S-S-Samantha, she d-d-didn’t mean any–“

“Oh, shut up!” She picked up one of Jasper’s severed fingers and repeatedly poked his mouth with it.

“You. Don’t. Get. To. Talk.” Samantha enjoyed the way his eyes bulged from the shock of seeing her and losing all that blood. She chuckled.

“You didn’t think I knew about your dirty little secret, did you, darling? Well, I don’t know if you deserve it, but we made a present for you!” Samantha slapped his face with something warm and spongy. It fell on his lap, and his vocal chords sang the high, straining notes of a mezzo-soprano. The piercing noise stabbed Samantha’s eardrums. She shoved all three of Jasper’s sliced fingers into his wailing mouth.

“You’re not only a cheater, dear whiny husband, you’re also a liar.”

She picked up the red, weakly throbbing organ and rammed it down his throat.“You see, your whore did have a heart, after all.”

Jasper made retching sounds as he fought for air. Marla’s heart pulsated faintly in his throat, and it rubbed against one of his severed fingers. Samantha laughed as he turned blue then a deep purple; an engorged vein pulsed on the side of his forehead. With the precision of a surgeon, she sliced the vein open and squealed when a fine spray of blood shot across the bathroom.

As she twirled in Jasper’s blood, the cuckoo clock, in the hall struck midnight, and it chirped to welcome the start of Valentine’s Day.

Samantha began to sing —

 

Written By

Click Here & Read Poetry!

 

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