Love stood short to describe my feelings for her. And those same feelings would haunt me forever. But her wicked mind had gone insane. It had broken out of the limits of society. And I couldn't let her destroy our "thing", I couldn't let her paint her own hands with her own thick blood.
I followed her into the bluest forest, and watched as she picked up bugs from the snow on the way, placing them on her naked shoulders. Some part of me wished her shoulders were not the only naked part of her body I'd seen before the end. I managed not to make a sound. But she knew I followed. She was aware of my attempts to stay indifferent.
Once the path was no longer in our sight, she stopped and turned at me.
The tallest trees stood around us.
Within seconds, I no longer knew which were the branches and which were the roots.
"I knew you'd come some day." she smiled, her dress covered in disgusting creatures as well as her shoulders; I'd never liked six legged insects. They were indeed grotesque. "I want you to have something."
I stared blankly, with a shiny knife behind my back. The blade carved as sharp as her teeth.
My mouth remained shut.
She proceeded to slip off her dress—there was no need to remove the sleeves for they were down already—leaving herself with black stockings, and floral underwear; but she did not tremble at the cold of the winter snow. She was, after all, untouchable.
I didn't bother to change my expression. Though my panties were wet, I was sure it was from fear and disgust, not for excitement.
She frowned. "You haughty girl! I thought you'd like it."
"What is it you want me to have?"
She turned her face at the tree tops. "Let's skip to the end, shall we?" and so, with her neck completely exposed, I noticed a bump on it, which grew bigger as they crawled up. The creatures approached the bump without fear.
She swung her head back to me and separated her lips widely. The aperture was dauntingly wide. She stuck her pointy tongue out, as one black cockroach crawled out of it. I noticed the bits of decomposed food and blood it was covered in.
I shivered; not at the bug but at the falling snow on my nose and lashes.
The bug opened its wings and flied towards me. It approached my nose so that I could capture the scent of vomit.
"My lovely," the white in her eyes was now black, "Just open your mouth."
I took a deep look at it and raised my brows highly.
"Disgusting." I stepped away from the creature, "I do not wish to have it."
Her arm and leg hair became sharp and grew thick.
The cockroach went down her throat again, and she then turned around and climbed the tree behind her easily, her skin grabbing onto the wood; the skin around her ribs cracked open and the skinniest, hairy, black legs grew from the guts. The snow had red splatters on it.
And when she looked back at the shiny sun, she let out a drowned scream that sounded more animal than human. Her eyes turned as big as her mouth.
"By the way, I thought I was your lovely," I said.
I threw the knife at her and observed as it buried into her neck as if it was made of plasticine. Or was just as thin as a bug's.
"The selfish lady you are," she whispered as she touched the ground with an eerie smile on her face. And she giggled while Death picked her up and sunk her into the ground. She was heading to hell, where she belonged.