Random One Shots

The Death Of Barbie

The death of Barbie

That blonde bimbo's face is everywhere. Being shoved down little girls throats on a daily basis. She needs to go. She needs to die.

I look down into her bright blue eyes. Fear plastered across her perfect face. Silver tears leaked down her face, leaving small tracks as they ran. She was mine. This was going to be fun. She was strapped down to a metal bed. Cloth clogged her mouth. I picked up a scalpel from the table beside me. I traced my fingers down the side of her unblemished face. This action made her whimper and flinch. "Hush now, little miss perfect" I said in a soothing voice. This caused her to thrash about trying to free herself. I ran the scalpel along where I had previously ran my fingers. Muffled whimpers escaped the bimbo's lips. I watched the crimson liquid trickle down her face and merge with her tears. I ran my tongue along the liquid. Its metallic saltiness filled my mouth. She squirmed at my tongue touching her milky flesh. My hands moved to her waist. I gave it a squeeze which made her freeze. "Calm down" I said lifting her pink and white shirt. "This is only gonna hurt ALOT" I said running my fingers over her exposed abdomen. I picked up an already blooded knife. I dug it roughly into her. Her whole body arched in agony as I twisted the knife. I couldn't help but chuckle as she whimpered and wiggled. She was a sight but not quite perfect. I pulled out the knife and tossed at aside. I removed the gag and she immediately scrammed. "No one can hear you" I said with a smirk playing my features. "You bitch let me go" she said thrashing around. "Langue" I said playing around with the gash across her body. I dipped my fingers into it making her screech. More acidic silver tears fell down her face. Her blood covered my hands. I felt pure ecstasy run through my veins as I broke her ribs. She screamed, throwing back her head with each crack. I picked up a clawed glove and dug it into her chest. Blood oozed out of the four puncher marks. I ripped my hand down her chest creating four perfect scratches down her torso. I made sure that they joined with my previous gash. I plunged my hand deep into her chest making her scream. This was it my final blow. I grasped her heart and ripped it clean out of her chest. She gave one last scream then fell limp.

It had been done Barbie was dead. No more perfect image for little girls. No more you have to be plastic and cake your face with make up to look pretty. I wonder how society would cope?

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