I just lay there twitching, my hands and legs tied to the operating table. The walls around me decorated with sharp steel and black drying blood. I closed my eyes and tried to focus as she shifted gear into the second para of the song. She sang with a calm that betrayed the face of the woman who had stuck knives in my legs and knitting needles in my arms. I could no longer feel the pain though. It was just a dull throb that rose and fell with every breath.
The world around me swam in a swirl of black, white and a song. She was in her element, singing to me. Swansong? A request of the dying? A good luck for my journey to hell? I do not know.
"You liked that?" she asked.
"Fuck you bitch." I replied through broken teeth.
Her grin flashed in the darkness of the room as she raised the guitar over her head and smashed it in my face. The wood broke and dug splinters into my already broken nose and sent a loose tooth in my mouth spiraling down into the void of my throat. I coughed, choked and swallowed it.
"You liked that?" she asked again.
I tried to breath in some air to hurl another profanity, but my blood bubbled into my nose. I tried to open my swollen mouth but no air came in, I tried to move my neck and a weight, heavy as a sack of bricks settled on my chest.
She was there, sitting on my chest, her hands around my throat, her fingernail digging deep into the side of my neck.
She was right where I wanted her. My face turned blue as I stopped any attempts to breathe. My heartbeat slowed, her screams thrummed in my ears, and I grinned through broken lips as my liquid nitrogen filled radioactive heart exploded through my chest and right into her.
Her heart-fucked body slumped down on me as I took my last breath and laughed.
Somedays I forget why people come to this blog, and then posts like the last post happen. When I remember why people come to this blog, heartfucked things happen.