anne-berlin [ Killgreedy ]

[white lines do not lie]

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Snarls came from behind the red curtain, as sounds of flesh fell to the ground. The slurping sound of something sucking the marrow from the bones intervened with the silence of the theater. It was after closing hours, but the old clan Tzimisce didn't seem to pay attention, or care even for the late night hours. Her fingers had been stained with the life force of the corps in front of her, as it slumped back against the chair. It was the center act, and all the blood was real.

Chunks of flesh laid about the chair, as the strands of tendons dangled from the body scape. eyes were wide-shocked in horror, as they still had the stare that the Tzimisce had seen one too many times before. Sounds of heels clicking against the hardwood floor echoed, as the Tzimisce changed the arraignment of the prey. Hands had moved to the death-struck neck, as she pulled it back. Something rumpled underneath her flesh, as her spine seemed to slither from her body. It seemed like it had detached from its proper placement, and just like a snake : the woman had shredded that flesh that wore on her back. Her own skin peeled off. Lights reflected the whiteness of the spine, as the reddish hue of her own dead blood ripened the sight for all to see.

The bones of the spine curved slightly, as she stood still. She was something uncalled for, something not studied : not explained. Her breath didn't come in, and out. She did not breathe at all, and for the heart that seemed to be inside between two sides of a heart shaped romance between bones, it did not beat. The serpent laid her head downwards, as she smelled the dead still slouched on the chair, as her poisoned tongue came out to taste that beautiful curvature of the body still leaking with the life force. Her tongue collected, and then slithered back into its cavern, as she canted her head. Her spine had been curved upwards, as it seemed to outlook a dragon's back, as it shook violently. The taste of blood usually did this to her, the whole shaking off the flesh.

Though, as soon as she took her stand, while her hands came to her bone-stricken hips, the flesh that had melted off her back seemed to stitch again. The small mapwork of veins, and of flesh collected itself against the squishy membrane of her structured lifes' work. The slithering serpent had remove itself from it's cavern, as it licked the life source that still remained on her lips, as she raised an eyebrow.

<font color="#000000"><font size="1">[ February 19, 2007 05:18 AM: Message edited by: white lines do not lie ]</font></font>

<font color="#000000"><font size="1">[ March 01, 2007 05:00 AM: Message edited by: white lines do not lie ]</font></font>

<font color="#FFFFFF"><font size="1">[ September 15, 2007 08:01 PM: Message edited by: white lines do not lie ]</font></font>

<font color="#000000" size="1">[ March 04, 2008 11:40 PM: Message edited by: white lines do not lie ]</font>

[white lines do not lie]

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It's overwhelming me.
To build these devices.
That cause your agony.
I've this dirty needle.
To pierce your skin so deep.
I've got this rusty scalpel.
To feel it just say please.

I know your body needs me.
And I will be your king.
I'll give you pain and I'll do it once more oh yeah.
Die mother fucker die.

Killgreedy Lollipop Lust Kill
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<font color="#000000"><font size="1">[ March 01, 2007 04:59 AM: Message edited by: white lines do not lie ]</font></font>

<font color="#FFFFFF" size="1">[ September 15, 2007 08:01 PM: Message edited by: white lines do not lie ]</font>