my religion || yungblud

blood in his nails

his skin was crawling- literally crawling- as if there were someone or something trapped beneath the layer of flesh itself. what was he? where did he come from? why is he touching me so softly, why is he in my bedroom...

"hush, darling. your thoughts are frightfully loud. wouldn't want the neighbors hearin' your nonsense chatter, would ya?"

i jump out of my bed, barely able to get anywhere as the figure grabbed my flannel pants and aggressively yanked me back on top of it. i kick and scream, throwing my limbs about, trying to grab on everything within my reach but it was no use; he had far more strength than i could even comprehend let alone compare to. i fall back onto him as he himself stays on the bed, embracing me while my loss of balance puts him yet another step ahead. in the dim glow of my nightlight i finally make out features of his, him looking over me and all. his face was inches from mine, i could see those green-hazel eyes, how psychotic they looked, how cold. his disheveled hair a silhouette in the dim light. 

he tilts his head as he runs his cold hand along my face, his lips slightly parted, eyes relaxed. i could feel his other hand gliding down the outside of my tank top. softly he pulls it up, revealing my stomach. somehow i couldn't scream, couldn't say no. i didn't want to. he somehow put me under this spell of complete relaxation and comfort under his sinister touch.

he slides his hand up my night shirt, his nails suddenly starting to dig into my chest. his hand preoccupied with stroking my face slides itself to my throat, tracing invisible shapes and swirls into my skin as if he was admiring it. i see faint dark spots form on my tight shirt, only now noticing how much his scratching had hurt. it was my own blood. i start to squirm, but he digs his nails deeper with every movement i make.

"keep movin', love. the feeling of your flesh in my nails gives me more enjoyment than i wish to admit-"    his tone remains calm, tired even. 

the hand at my throat slowly clasps around, the grip getting increasingly painful and causing me to have a frightening lack of breath. tighter, tighter. my vision blurs slightly and i look up at him, still so close to me that i can feel his breath on my cheek. he has this almost admiring look in his eye, some sort of infatuation i can't begin to comprehend. my vision is failing, my consciousness fading...

"how cute," he says, and with my last bit of sense i feel his lips touch mine, a tongue not far after...