an excerpt from my book!

The DEADEST dove in the world. If you eat it, you might d13.

bł00d, g0r3, mention of v0m1+, mvrd3r, and mention of ¢@n1b@ł1§m TW!

Anyways, Here’s a blip from my psych horror called 107!

────── ⋆⋅꒰ა☆໒꒱⋅⋆ ──────

I stood there and watched as she clutched at her soulless mass of her husband. It looked like something out of a horror movie; over the top special effects, fake guts made out of wet spaghetti and pillow stuffing, and so much fake blood. But this time it was real, it smelled real. Like old, tin cans, puke and salty sweat.

She sobbed silently, at one point gagging from crying so much. 

I couldn’t hold it back. A giggle, A sound of pure, utter happiness writhed out of my throat, though I tried my best to keep it down. Her head shot up and looked at me, and then she melted once again into sorrow. I gazed into the desperate look in her eyes as she presented him to me, silently saying “Look. Look what’s happened. Please.”

Presented to me like an art piece. An art piece I created.

My breath shuddered in masked glee as I walked over and I kneeled down, my knees scraping the asphalt, putting a hand on his forehead.

“Oh god…” I swallowed. I remembered doing it. Looking at it nearly aroused me, like an artist’s final draft. The sour smell of stomach acid, the salty notes of saliva, the metallic-y blood base and the warmth. What a meal… I want another taste. I almost want to shove it inside me.

I studied his body, remembering what I did like a nostalgic memory. The joy I felt when I plunged my knife into his cheeks, watching his jaw so slack. Stomping on his throat, making his ligaments crunch into pebbles below my shoe. Watching him choke and drown in his own blood and bile…

It smelled so disgusting, it was beautiful…

Her sudden sob yanked me out of my own head, and everything else faded back into view. I masked my lust for my new found freedom as I looked at her.

“Where are the kids?”

“School.” She managed to choke out. Her face was red as spit connected to the roof of her mouth to the bottom. Her cheeks were shiny and wet. “H-Henry…” She sobbed, and buried herself into me.

“I know.” I put my hands on her back, rubbing up and down. My eyes dilated, the corners of my mouth soon turned sore.

“The kids… their dad…”

“I know.” My hands shook and my shoulders slouched. I felt freedom’s hands run down my body as it made my vision blurry.

She sobbed and wailed into my neck, the sound ringing in my head. This is the sound of freedom.

God, it’s beautiful.

Louder. Scream louder, I want freedom to turn me deaf, I want freedom to flood my eardrums.

────── ⋆⋅꒰ა☆໒꒱⋅⋆ ──────

Ye! That’s that lol, idk if it’s any good to the public, but I like it!

I hope i don’t seem like an edge lord, I like writing gore, not sh-ing bc it’s on trend or smth

 

The main chr/narrator is named Henrietta, she’s my everything🫶

It’s kinda abt the slip of mental health when people ignore it, and what it can turn into people. It seems like a fucked up erotica, but it’s not/gen, I don’t find murder/gore/necrophilia/vomit erotic at all/srs

Anyways, lmk what yall think!