I live for bloody phone sex. I don’t just kill a person, I mutilate their body and exsanguinate the body. I am a gore whore. My friends think I am a vampire wannabe because I drink blood. They don’t know the half of it. A have a few goth friends I confide in, but they think I just have dark fantasies. They don’t realize that I mostly have dark realities because killing is my favorite pastime. This little millennial bitch cut in front of me in line at a coffee house. She informed me I don’t matter, so I could wait. I was stabbing her with my eyes in line for an overpriced coffee. I made note of her license plate because once you have that, a home address is not hard to find, especially when you have a friend at the DMV. That little cunt just had her last Frappuccino. I broke into her house early in the morning. Of course, she lived in the suburbs in a trendy artsy community. A grizzly murder and home invasion would rock this community. I woke up because I wanted her to see me kill her. I wanted her to feel her death. Normally, I would have a male accomplice to help me. He could explore his rape fantasies before she became my snuff porn queen. This bitch was all mine this time. I dragged her skinny ass to her bathroom, muffled her mouth with her panties and hung her upside down from her shower rod. I slit her throat to bleed her out. I sat naked in the tub feeling her hot blood spill on my body and fill my wine glass. I masturbated using her blood as lube, watching the life disappear from her eyes while drinking her warm blood. Who doesn’t matter now, bitch?
Venus
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