Devil In A White Dress

Sixty Nine

In a matter of seconds, Sam held unto Kitty's arms not because of his fear of Emma, but the fear that his beloved wife would do something very predictable. While the atmosphere of the cabin remained still, the couple refrained from making any movement because they were waiting for Emma to make hers.

She stood there smiling, exposing all thirty two of her bloodied teeth while bulging her red, pulsating eyes of terror. Veins popped out visibly around her neck and both sides of her head. It was like a whole myth had been bought to life. Sam and Kitty noticed that Emma wasn't attacking. All she was doing was smiling and staring at them.

Kitty took this chance. She grabbed two pairs of Kelly forceps and charged at the maniac in rage. Sam lost his grip and yelled with all his might, but Kitty just wouldn't listen. Running in speed, she raised the forceps high in the air and swung her arms towards Emma, but the maniac anticipated more than that. She clutched Kitty's wrists tight before any of that happened.

"Kitty!!", Sam screamed and cried, hustling to get out of the damn couch but feeling so much pain from the tremendous bleeding of the exposed wound. The bullet inside was now his biggest problem. He strapped the tourniquet around tight, even though it made things a lot worse.

"Let her go!", he yelled again, "I said let her go! Please! For fucksake, let her go! Kill me instead!"

Unexpectedly, Emma's hunger kicked in and all she could think of was how good Kitty tasted. She smiled looking deep into Kitty's fear-stricken eyes. That face looked familiar.

The face that told you that this person didn't see it coming.

Emma sunk her bloodied teeth into Kitty's left ears and bit it off entirely, enjoying the velocity of cries she and her husband uttered at the same time. Still smirking, she sunk her teeth around Kitty's nose and bit it off too. Kicking her down to the ground hard and watching her staggering for mercy. She placed both hands over the place where her nose was to prevent the severe trickling of blood, but it hurt so bad like Hell.

Sam leapt out of the couch and crawled on the floor like a wall gecko, stretching his hand to try reaching the whimpering Kitty.

Entirely unaware Emma was, when Kitty's desire to get revenge still motivated her to grab the forceps and stab the maniac's right foot with it. But she hardly gave a slight reaction, despite feeling the pain of the blade. Now she wasn't smirking anymore. When Kitty tried to stab her again using the other arm, an axe had already been spotted amongst a pile of broken glass, so she picked it up, swung and sliced both Kitty's arms off with a high impact.

Blood splattered all across the room, unto Emma, and some on Sam's face.

"NO!!!!", Sam, again, cried in agony.

Before he knew it, Kitty was gazing at her limbless arms.

The dreaded Emma saw her still attempting to crawl toward her terrified husband, so she watched to her heart's satisfaction. Few minutes later, Emma noticed she was really trying, so she swung the axe in the air one more time and landed it heavily into Kitty's back, breaking into her spine and twisting it pleasurably.

Sam became speechless because now he watched his wife die in front of him. He watched her body cease motion at approximately 11: 26, the same manner he saw his son drop dead at the hands of this heinous and unpredictable killer.

Nothing mattered anymore, because he was as dead as the world. Without any thinking or planning, Sam carelessly scrambled for the Kit and fumbled for another Kelly forceps. Emma would have easily slashed his head in two with the axe if it wasn't stuck inside his wife's back, but instead she chose to stomp on the open, bloodied wound with the same stabbed foot.

Sam screamed like a little girl this time, then tears started falling because of absolute agony. Emma didn't stop. She didn't want to stop. It all felt good. So was what she was about to do to him.

"Does it hurt?", Emma asked smoothly, torturing him in ways a man couldn't understand.

"W..... W.....WHAT?!", Sam questioned in a confused state of shock.

"I said does it hurt?", Emma asked again.

"F....F....Fuck you, you fucking sick psycho.......Fuck you......", Sam bellowed, trying with exasperation to fight back by use of the forceps in hand, but Emma kicked it away with the other heel.

"Why did you do that?", Emma asked him again, smiling wholeheartedly.

"Why did I do what?!", Sam screamed again, crying so hard because he couldn't tell if this woman in WHITE was trying to spark up a happy conversation or torture him to death with stupendous questions while vividly hurting him.

"Why did do you try to hurt me? I just saw you," Emma replied blankly, "Your efforts are weak, Sam. Your wife was right there, and you couldn't save her. That is the perfect example of the many things I hate about the world, Sam. No one can ever trust anyone. Not even at their critical moment."

She kicked him hard to the nose, as though this feeling totally vexed her. He couldn't even utter another cry. Emma plunged her WHITE heel into his face repeatedly, then grabbed his curly hair and dragged him across the room to the wall, where she banged his head multiple times. Crushing his skull until his face was a bloodied pulp of red.

The time spent in murdering two dysfunctional partners was shockingly tiring, it surprised Emma herself. At approximately 11:30, she cared less about planning what she'd do next. She took the forceps from Sam's hand and cautiously cut and sliced off parts of the skin covering his chest and devoured them.

First, she sliced off both ears and ate them, then sliced the fingers and toes.

For a while later, she went back to Kitty's body. Dragging her across the floor to lean her against the wall like her Sam and ripped her shirt open before slicing into her belly, removing the intestines in perfect mannerism. It was like walking down the memory lane of watching the autopsies on TV.

What makes you sane, Emma Woodburn?

That masculine voice hit her like a ghost whisper from the wind, but Emma wasn't startled. The odor of the perfume the good doctor Cowen used could still be smelt from miles away. She used the scalpel this time to slice Kitty's face off.

Her mind was still blank as space. A whole consciousness had departed and was never coming back. Not at this state of insanity.

Emma couldn't even stop when the sound of the door creaking open echoed. She slowly turned to see her visitor and it was Brianna, panting breathlessly and in pure shock as she gazed at the emotionless face of Emma Woodburn.