Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction ❯ "And if his death should come to me." ❯ One-Shot ( One-Shot )
[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]
By: Anaki Of The Blood Wolves 
Don't get sick all over the keyboard, you need it to review.
Anime/Manga: Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Horror | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 09.29.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 902 | Visits: 1.9K | Status: Completed
Don't get sick all over the keyboard, you need it to review.
Anime/Manga: Yu Yu Hakusho Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Horror | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 09.29.2005 | Pages: 1 | Words: 902 | Visits: 1.9K | Status: Completed
Disclaimer: I dont own anything, 'cept my OC's and I dun think I'm gonna put them in this fic.
One-Shot
Warnings: Very Violent character death, slight yoai.
Key
*thinking*
'substitute for italics'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was much blood splattered on the floor, it was fresh and the smell intoxicated me so. I get up and lean down into his pretty face.
*You look so beautiful lying there, your long, untamed hair gently framing your pale face, breath coming from you in short gasps and you struggle to stay awake and not slip beneath the surface.* I think, leaning over him, my precious, my love, and my prey.
"I love seeing you like this, the great one, once so feared, now so helpless." I tell him, licking some of the blood from his face and kissing him.
He reaches up to grab a fistful of my silky black hair, I gently untwine his fingers, but he grabs it again, and I sigh, letting him.
"Wh-?" he asks, trying to speak, but coughing up blood before he can get out more than a few words. I lean down once more, kissing him again and greedily sucking the blood into my own mouth, relishing in its metallic, coppery taste.
"Because, you look so beautiful when covered in blood, injured, helpless, you're mine and noone else's."
He coughs again, his grip on my hair tightening. It hurt, it really did, like he was trying to pull it out from the roots, and before I knew it I had kicked him. I had kicked him very hard, in the chest, broken some ribs as I could hear them snapping. I didn't stop either, I continued to kick and scratch at my prey, what right did he have to try and ruin such perfection?
I finally came back to myself, to reality, and looked down at my prey, he looked so much like a china doll, fragile and broken. He was bleeding seriously now, blood just poured from him so heavily, so easily, I licked my lips at the sight. He looked so lovely covered in blood, he was getting paler, his coughs becoming more frequent, the many cuts and gashes just bleeding, bleeding...so much blood.
He was mine.
He was dying.
I loved it, I picked him up, cradled him in my arms, and lapped hungrily at his wounds as a dog would water. It tasted delicious, his blood, and I let him slump to the floor.
It was so pretty, a porcelain doll lay in front of me, broken into so many pieces.
My prey, his blood coated my hands, my face, I loathed it, but it was so fun to watch him slowly fade in front of my eyes.
"Are you afraid of death?" I asked him, wanting to see that pretty white throat shake as he struggled for an answer.
He didn't move, his eyes were closed and he lay still.
"Well, are you? I know you aren't dead yet." I said, proding him with my foot. He groaned softly in pain and slowly opened one eye, eeking out a response.
"No...no, you sick bastard, I'm not...I'm not afraid of dying, I just hate...that it had...to be...at your...your...filthy hands...-cough-." he replied, smiling at me.
I flew at him with another bout of mad rage, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him up against the wall, he hacked blood into my face, which only served to make me angrier. I took out a knife and stabbed him with it, over and over again, slashing deep cuts in his arms and the rest of his body, digging it into his neck, his eyes, punching him in the face, and breaking his nose. Also a few teeth, he looked a grotesque mass of flesh now, the beautiful blood dripped between my fingers, yet he never uttered a cry, never screamed, until I dug my nails into his chest.
He screamed then, music, a sweet song to me. His death came all too swiftly. He was really gone when the cops came, but I'd had my fun, so I let them take his beaten, bloodied corpse. I took joy in the digust that twisted their serious faces as they looked from me to the body and back again. Before they restrained me, I just smiled, and licked the blood from my fingers. Exquisite.
Goodbye, my love.
Goodbye, my precious.
Goodnight, my prey, sleep well.
Even now, as I sit here in this asylum, typing this for you to read, could I truly be counted as mad, as insane? I can still remember the taste of his sweet blood.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anaki: How do you like?
RC#16: OMFG! -rushes to bathroom-
Anaki: Can you guess the characters?
RC#16: Noone's 'that' sick!
Anaki: -winks- In my first angsty horror fic, they are.
RC#16: Ugh...-races back to bathroom-
Anaki: ^_____^ Review!
One-Shot
Warnings: Very Violent character death, slight yoai.
Key
*thinking*
'substitute for italics'
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
There was much blood splattered on the floor, it was fresh and the smell intoxicated me so. I get up and lean down into his pretty face.
*You look so beautiful lying there, your long, untamed hair gently framing your pale face, breath coming from you in short gasps and you struggle to stay awake and not slip beneath the surface.* I think, leaning over him, my precious, my love, and my prey.
"I love seeing you like this, the great one, once so feared, now so helpless." I tell him, licking some of the blood from his face and kissing him.
He reaches up to grab a fistful of my silky black hair, I gently untwine his fingers, but he grabs it again, and I sigh, letting him.
"Wh-?" he asks, trying to speak, but coughing up blood before he can get out more than a few words. I lean down once more, kissing him again and greedily sucking the blood into my own mouth, relishing in its metallic, coppery taste.
"Because, you look so beautiful when covered in blood, injured, helpless, you're mine and noone else's."
He coughs again, his grip on my hair tightening. It hurt, it really did, like he was trying to pull it out from the roots, and before I knew it I had kicked him. I had kicked him very hard, in the chest, broken some ribs as I could hear them snapping. I didn't stop either, I continued to kick and scratch at my prey, what right did he have to try and ruin such perfection?
I finally came back to myself, to reality, and looked down at my prey, he looked so much like a china doll, fragile and broken. He was bleeding seriously now, blood just poured from him so heavily, so easily, I licked my lips at the sight. He looked so lovely covered in blood, he was getting paler, his coughs becoming more frequent, the many cuts and gashes just bleeding, bleeding...so much blood.
He was mine.
He was dying.
I loved it, I picked him up, cradled him in my arms, and lapped hungrily at his wounds as a dog would water. It tasted delicious, his blood, and I let him slump to the floor.
It was so pretty, a porcelain doll lay in front of me, broken into so many pieces.
My prey, his blood coated my hands, my face, I loathed it, but it was so fun to watch him slowly fade in front of my eyes.
"Are you afraid of death?" I asked him, wanting to see that pretty white throat shake as he struggled for an answer.
He didn't move, his eyes were closed and he lay still.
"Well, are you? I know you aren't dead yet." I said, proding him with my foot. He groaned softly in pain and slowly opened one eye, eeking out a response.
"No...no, you sick bastard, I'm not...I'm not afraid of dying, I just hate...that it had...to be...at your...your...filthy hands...-cough-." he replied, smiling at me.
I flew at him with another bout of mad rage, grabbing him by the throat and slamming him up against the wall, he hacked blood into my face, which only served to make me angrier. I took out a knife and stabbed him with it, over and over again, slashing deep cuts in his arms and the rest of his body, digging it into his neck, his eyes, punching him in the face, and breaking his nose. Also a few teeth, he looked a grotesque mass of flesh now, the beautiful blood dripped between my fingers, yet he never uttered a cry, never screamed, until I dug my nails into his chest.
He screamed then, music, a sweet song to me. His death came all too swiftly. He was really gone when the cops came, but I'd had my fun, so I let them take his beaten, bloodied corpse. I took joy in the digust that twisted their serious faces as they looked from me to the body and back again. Before they restrained me, I just smiled, and licked the blood from my fingers. Exquisite.
Goodbye, my love.
Goodbye, my precious.
Goodnight, my prey, sleep well.
Even now, as I sit here in this asylum, typing this for you to read, could I truly be counted as mad, as insane? I can still remember the taste of his sweet blood.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Anaki: How do you like?
RC#16: OMFG! -rushes to bathroom-
Anaki: Can you guess the characters?
RC#16: Noone's 'that' sick!
Anaki: -winks- In my first angsty horror fic, they are.
RC#16: Ugh...-races back to bathroom-
Anaki: ^_____^ Review!