Civil Blood

His bloody hands slid beneath her coat, grasping at her chest, pressing into her sternum. He pressed himself further into her, his thighs heavy as they weighed her down. He buried his head into the crook of her neck, not caring as it shoved her face roughly into the stone ground. His hands remained clamped over her heart, feeling every beat, ever breath, beneath the cage of bone within.

They slowed faster than he expected. He felt the blood pouring from her side, soaking the leg of his pants in the sticky warmth. He let himself slide further into her, letting himself derive what he needed from her even as she expired. He took his hands off her chest, leaving trails of her rich blood across her white skin as  he wrapped his arms around her bare waist. His heart, beating well beyond its normal rate, could only feel offset by the stillness within her's.

The stillness, that was what he truly desired. He felt the muffled silence of the night settle around him, around her, as his body pressed what was left of her breath from her's. He lifted his head slightly to look upon her face. Even bloody, she was still remarkably pretty. Probably one of the prettiest girls he'd collected, at least from this part of town. His hand brushed across her cheekbones as he went to press her eyelids shut. He knew he would enjoy his time with her before she started to decay...

He began to pull himself off of her chest. Jeezus, he had gotten too carried away. He had to get her home, had to stop up that wound so the police couldn't track the blood trail, had to burn these pants-

Kchunk.


Stabbing pain shot down his neck straight into his spine. The blow flattened him onto her, but he was immediately seized by the back of his jacket and forcefully thrown off. He gasped as the foot bashed against his ribs, and the cane that had struck his neck came at his exposed side now. A guttural scream ripped from his lungs, only to be cut short as another kick impacted them. He scrambled on hands and knees to get away from his assailant, the blow from the cane across his back only propelling him faster. As he staggered as fast as he could back to his feet to run, he saw a man with markings like a skull branded across his face standing over the girl and holding the cane stained with his blood. Their eyes met, and Alexander felt like his soul itself burst into flames.

"GET OUT!" the man bellowed.

Alexander was already gone.

The man shoved his hair out of his eyes, landing hard on his knees as he rushed to help the girl. What had that boy done to her? How could humanity be so sick? He grabbed her jacket, using it to apply pressure to the gash in her side, but there was so much blood on the ground he doubted it would do much. He tried anyway, though.

"Miss?" he asked, lifting her face off the ground. "Miss, can you hear me?"

He cast an uneasy glance down the alley, hoping the noise hadn't attracted the police. This wouldn't look good to them with anyone, much less a man with as much of a reputation as he had...

"Miss, please. Say something to me, my lady."

She did not look good. But he swore he could feel something inside of her, some wisp of life he was trying so hard to catch before it disappeared...

"Please, my lady, please...." he begged, holding her side as if he was trying to force the blood back in.