Tortured's Tale

Chapter 1

She hated to use the blade. Too... Dirty. But she had to kill somehow. She tried it without it many times, but despite the effort, it was never enough. One cannot rip off a king from the throne without first conquering his castle. The same goes for souls and bodies. The only difference being that bodies aren't castles of hard merciless rock, far from that. They are frail and weak. Mere phantoms in comparison with the power of what slumbers within.
She wasn't interested in it. She used to possess far greater might than any unclean spirit could grant. But she lost that power and the remnant she retained was used to acquire feeding for her endless void.
She kneeled beside the motionless corpse and felt for signs of commencing disjunction. The sound of her unnaturally fast heartbeats was banging at her sweat covered temples. With skeletal hands shaking wildly she roughly opened the jaw of the victim and bend over his mouth.
"It will all be over soon." breathed she raggedly and joined her lips with the rapist's.
A black mass of ephemeral substance flowed in, caressing her cracked lips and soaked through an entirety of her physical structure, filling every cell with uncontainable bliss.

One for whom alcohol is not enough, souls pose a sufficient compensation. Just as men are addicted to the fiery substance so was she enslaved to souls. Shattered and numb she didn't care much about anything anymore. She lost her hope long ago...