Monica bats her doll-like eyelashes in the face of Dustin. The boy is lost in her trance.
"It's a trap." He thought.
Her dark, yet vibrant, hair blew softly in the cold autumn breeze. Her lips, smooth as a new layer of skin from a snake, Monica was familiar with that aspect.
The small-statured girl stepped closer to the tall, handsome, yet cowardly man.
"I've been meaning to tell you something." She says shyly.
"What is it?" said Dustin, his voice trembling.
Monica tip-toed to lean into the anxious boy's ear to whisper,
"My sweet serial killer, I love you just a little too much."
The words linger in his brain, his heart, and his soul for what seems like an eternity. He knew what kind of monster she was. Yet, it only attracted him.
They stare into each other's eyes, lingering, while Monica reaches for her waist. The silver pocket knife shines with the moonlight.
Their lips connect, tongues dancing, love sparking. The sweet taste of Monica's cherry ice lips linger onto Dustin's. The intensity builds, as Dustin rests his hand on her cheek and-
Slash.
The piercing of the heart, the red flowing out like a broken dam. Dustin stood still in his final moments, embracing the pain, and pleasure. Even on his deathbed, he continued to love Monica.
His sweet serial killer.
