When Doves Cry
09-24-2014, 03:51 PM
Her new partner would coo to their victim. Her expression contradicted her sweet words. A wicked grin would continue to lift dark lips as she stood for a moment to simply watch. Her golden temptress would latch onto his nose, ripping it away from his face and causing him to howl in pain. Her next assault would be on his working forelimb, ripping away skin and flesh before ingesting it. She was gruesome really, preferring to slowly rip away flesh and skin rather than cause internal damage first. But to each their own. Stepping forward, she would place a paw on his soft belly, just behind his ribs, toes kneading the tender flesh. Lifting her hefty frame into hind legs, she would rear up before crashing down on him, her forelimbs locked as her weight came crashing down with unforgiving force against his belly. He would wail and cough and vomit, making a further mess of himself. Again she would lift herself up, though this time bringing her forepaws down on his ribs. She would repeat the process twice until his ribs finally gave away beneath her weight, snapping and fracturing. He would gasp and wheeze, struggling for air. A bone puncture his lung. Soon he wouldnt even be able to take a breath. He would suffocate. Siting back she would watch and wait. Watching him squirm and writhe in desperation. He struggled so hard to breath, but it was fruitless battle. He only had minutes left of his miserable life. His broken body quivered, sides heaving with exertion. There was no mercy here. She would not end his life to cease his suffering, she would prolong it. It had been far to long since she heard the cries of her victims, rolled in their blood and feasted on their flesh. Speech, |
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