Ever A Kiss So Raw

I was tired of running from her.

I never stayed more than a few months to a year in one place, working the odd job, making the odd friend. But then the deaths would start: stray animals found drained of blood; livestock mutilated and eaten; a child would go missing and would be found, torn and chewed. I'd be on the road by then, hitching my way cross country to find another beginning in another hiding place. As luck would have it I was now back where it all began.

The house had been abandoned once I left. No one would want to live in the house where the crazy man tried to bring his dead wife back to life. If they'd known I'd succeeded it might actually have been a worthwhile tourist attraction: The New House of Frankenstein. I smiled at that. I wasn't actually Frankenstein, though. On the twelfth night of the twelfth month after her death, I spilt the blood of 12 people -- six men and six women -- over the spot where I'd buried her behind the house. All at the midnight hour. Moments has passed and all I could see was the condensation from the warm blood as it flowed from the gaping smiles I'd carved in each of my victims' necks and seeped in to the ground of her makeshift grave. I did all as the old man with the one eye had said, but instead of a resurrection I was staring at the gory maelstrom of my own making. I finally lost my obsession and looked at the murders I'd committed in the name of love -- or so I'd fooled myself into thinking it was love. Each terror stricken face burned itself in my mind and I screamed at the bloody madness of what I'd done.

But then the blood started to boil.

I'd fallen to my knees and laughed as the blood gurgled and bubbled. All thoughts of penance left me as I witnessed piece after piece of flesh emerge from each burst blood-bubble. Within minutes her bones has formed, followed by her nervous system, then her heart and blood vessels and her muscles formed. All this rebirth was accompanied by horrendous viscous sucking sounds and screams that only I could hear. When her mass was sufficient and enough of her muscles regenerated she stood to her full height and turned to me with her beautiful skinless face. I stood and walked to her. She managed to appear puzzled for a minute and her eyes shined as she recognised me. She took my hand in hers and pressed it to her bloodied breast. Warm blood and mucus washed over my fingers as I pressed her flesh and laid a thumb on her raw nipple. I kissed her as I felt her heart beat faster when I slipped a finger in the unformed cleft between her legs. Her entire body shuddered and a rush of blood flowed from the fibres of her muscles and splashed me.

"Not yet, my love," she managed to whisper as she hiccuped blood. From her lips I realised her teeth were different. They were straight and pointy and there were too many of them for her mouth. "I need a snack and I need some skin, and I'll be ready for you lover," she whispered and leaned down to one of my murder victims, took the now cold ear in her mouth and yanked it off with a soft crunch of cartilage. She turned to me, took the ear between her finger and ran her tongue across it the way she would when we made out. I stared, fascinated at the way her white and red muscled flexed and bulged as she feasted on the dead men and women. I felt the erection form involuntarily between my legs as I watched her skin begin to grow. My hand had slipped in to my pants and I was caressing my cock at the thought of touching her again when she was whole. But a stray beam of moonlight hit the scene and like reason splitting madness I clearly saw my wife standing amidst the mutilated remains of 12 people I'd murdered.

I howled.

She laughed. She spit blood.

I ran.

I ran for 3 years and I ran all the way back to our house. I now had a fire burning and I stripped out of my clothes and was waiting for night fall. She only moved at night anyway. I had spread a blanket across the dusty hardwood floor and incense was burning to ward off the old mouldy house smell. I noticed that flies were massing outside the windows; she was outside -- close to the house but probably unsure if I was going to run again or not. She was waiting.

I reached for my jeans and slipped my old straight razor from the back pocket. I walked to the front door -- footprints forming in the dust marking my passage -- pulled it open and ran the blade across my skin, from my left clavicle to my right nipple. The cut was a few millimetres deep and my blood filled the crevasse with its dark, scarlet warmth. I shivered as the liquid flowed across my skin and filled the ambient air with it's stale, coppery stench. I waited till a good number of blood droplets rolled down my chest and pooled on the threshold of the door and I went back inside. The gash on my chest throbbed and bled as I moved but it was a small price to pay to begin the evening.

Moments later the doorknob shook and the door opened. A draft made the fire sway and I saw her in its flickering light. She stepped into the house, partially in the shadows and partially in the light. She was as beautiful as she was when she breathed: statuesque in height with long reddish hair down to her shoulders; a lovely face with a thin nose, thick lips and big green eyes. Her breasts were firm and full with pale nipples that stuck out prominently. Her waist was slim and her hips just slightly rounded. Her triangle of pubic hair was red and trim; just the slightest hint of her puffy pussy lips jutted from the edge of her hair. She was my every fantasy come true -- till I noticed she was holding a severed head in one hand and a bloodied leg in other. She lifted the leg to her mouth and tore a large chunk of meat from around the protruding bone. She winked as she chewed and my cock became hard. Flies were buzzing around the head.

She dropped the body parts when I beckoned her to me. She walked slowly, milking the effect of the shadows dancing across her skin. She smiled seductively at me as I waited for her on the blanket. She was close to me now; I could smell the decomposing flesh on her breath and saw small red bits in her teeth. She was beautiful.

"You're bleeding," she said as she ran a finger across the cut on my chest. She scooped some blood like it was icing on a cake. "For me?"

I pressed the wound and more blood pooled and I scooped it in turn with my finger and slicked my tongue with it. I then grabbed her by the hair and kissed her more savagely then I ever had when she was alive. The blood spread over out tongues and lips as they mashed and entwined themselves. I realised as I kissed her that bits of the flesh she'd eaten were now in my mouth. I swallowed.

Our lips parted and she started to kiss and nibble her way down my chest. This was a ritual we'd done may times before, but never had her teeth felt so cold. She was now on her knees before me and my cock entered her mouth. As we'd kissed she'd felt warm but now it was cool beyond her lips. But that sensation was soon replaced with terror as I felt a stinging pain at the base of my cock; warmth spread through my pubic hair and I looked down and saw as she slowly leaned her head back, stripping the skin from my erection. My knees buckled as the sensitive nerve endings connecting the soft skin of my shaft to my brain fired with agony and then throbbed. It sounded like two pieces wet meat being pulled apart. I would've collapsed if she hadn't held me steady. Once the skin was cleanly sheared off, she swallowed it and then made love to my raw flesh with her face. She pressed my member to her cheeks and forehead; she glided her tongue over each side of my shaft; she ended by evenly lathering her face with the juices and mucus of my dermis. My heart beat erratically all the while, but I stayed conscious. I had to.

Seeing that I couldn't keep standing much longer she let me fall to the floor. The blanket was already caked in blood. I was on my back and she climbed on top of me; she kissed my eyelids and positioned her pussy in line with my cock. Despite it having been stripped raw it was still hard and my desire for her was still rampant as she slid down my shaft. I was feeling warmth again in her pussy a she rode me -- the slickness of her pussy walls mixing with my blood was eliminating all friction. There was only the sensation of pain melding with pleasure as our insides shared an intimacy they never had before. Although I was thrusting voluntarily to meet her as we fucked, tears streamed down my cheeks as the little bit of rationality in the back of my mind understood what was happening. My eyes grew wide as I saw her take the razor that had fallen to the side -- she stopped riding me and pressed the blade to her forehead. In a swift gesture the blade was at her pubic bone and a trail of blood was forming behind it. I was frozen as she lay the blade on my chest; she slipped her fingers in her wound like she would the seam of a jacket and she yanked. There was a sound somewhere between a hiss and a rip and I was spayed with fresh blood as she parted the outer layer of her skin till it dangled on each side of her body like a bloodied robe. Only the skin of her face remained partially whole, exposing her dripping features from its parted halves.

"Are you ready to really get in touch lover?" she asked while leaning down on me and pressing her lips to mine. I couldn't help but savour the taste of her rotten blood and undulated my hips in response. She giggled from that fuck and took the razor and gently rested it on my hairline. She wasn't quick like she'd been for herself, she took her time as she guided the razor down my profile. She gyrated her hips as she did so -- as I felt my skin open millimetre by millimetre I also felt the obscene pleasure of her riding my bleeding cock. She was riding my whole bleeding body and I moaned. Then I screamed as she yanked my skin apart. Fire erupted in my brain and lights devoured my eyesight as I heard the ripping sound -- it wasn't as clean as it had been for her: pieces of muscle were torn from bone as I saw them fly to the side. I followed the trajectory of one and saw it land a few feet way from us. Something like a rat dashed from the shadows and dragged the piece of me back in to the darkness, leaving a scarlet trail behind it.

She hovered above me, her exposed raw flesh lightly touching mine. It was disgusting and electric at the same time. She touched her lips to what was left of mine and we started to fuck more viciously this time. As we bucked and our bodies bled and splattered the floor and walls and ceiling I felt our skins break apart and reform where they touched. We were becoming one creature, locked in bloody passion.

I was giving in to her, letting our flesh melt together. I even managed to smile when she took a bite out of my neck muscles. But then I saw my cell phone -- it had fallen from my jean pocket and it was within reach. Suddenly my thoughts were still my own and I concentrated with all my might to reach the device. Some of our new flesh tore but she didn't notice while she gnawed through a tough tendon. From the corner of my eye I managed to locate the keypad and hit the "2" key. The keypad wasn't locked and the call went through.

I closed my eyes when I heard the faint musical tone rise from the basement. I was sure the glow of my other ringing cell phone was reflecting off the cocaine and other stimulants I'd ingurgitated tonight. Maybe the glow exposed the sacs of fertiliser I'd bought and the canisters of fuel pressed up against them. I laughed -- or gurgled -- as the floor swelled beneath us and cracked and flames sprouted like trees in Hell. The call had completed the circuit and my wife and I were together.

Forever in oblivion.