Blood and gore

Don't know what drove me to write this. Maybe the anticipation of the second part of a certain movie is getting to me.


Fight to the finish, he says. She agrees and cuts his head off. One stroke with a smooth swift blade: blood on the edge, blood on the floor, blood on blood.

His arms twitch involuntarily; they search for his head. She smiles and plunges the knife deep into his stomach. Deep, deep inside. She twists, turns and pulls the knife out. His arms stop moving. His body lies still.

She grinds her heel on his fingers and walks out of the screen.


On the other hand, maybe I'm just bored and frustrated.