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Her lips taste like wine, coupled with pomegranates and cherry soda. You don't know why, but suddenly a sweet and harmless chaste kiss becomes a hellion, as you feel something sharp pressing against your bottom lip. It's drawing beads of blood, and when you open your eyes, it isn't a pretty sight.

"Mother FUCK!"

You're scrambling away from her. Your sight is obscured by the haze, but you can make out a pretty smile and a soft giggle is heard, but it echoes and rings in your ears. You don't even want to know what's in her hands anymore.

"What the hell's happening here?!"

You're quieted by the touch of her fingertips. Soft, against your lips smeared red, and hard and sharp and all flavors of pain as she tugs down your waistband and clutches your skin without gentleness at all. It bruises easy and she rubs circles around your hip, pressing her fingernail in even more while you're still trying to process what's happening.

"His blood tastes like iron! Ughhhhh. I thought it would be more like, I don't know, soda? At least give it some flavor!"

You hear a second voice, and a dark silhouette emerging from the shadows.

"Don't be a bitch. You know you're the only one not affected by exposure to iron."

Another giggle. Your head soon fills up with all sorts of scents and vivid imaginations, different scenes playing inside your mind. You can't even feel as she takes a long drag of her colored nails and sinks it deeper into your skin, cutting it up and open. The blood seeps out everywhere, and even through the blur you see it staining your carpets. You're exhausted, too tired to function and process the thoughts, and another giggle stops you completely. Your head rolls and your eyes stay glazed and unfocused, and the drug in your veins tires you out even more.

You're dead by the time you even know what's happening.

-

A very short sneak peak to a story I'm starting. It is the beginning, will be included in the prologue. I don't know when I'll start, but hey, progress is progress.