Repugnant: Butterfly

Chapter 1 - You Do Not Know Me

"I hate you!" Her heart raced, pumped and boiled with anger.

"You can't kill her. Not yet to be more precise," I spoke back to myself. I then had the sudden urge to undress her once more. Followed by carving my name between her breasts using my late father's chisel.

In exchange for my woes I wanted to watch her bleed, her beg me, her give me the pleasure of hearing my name off her scarlet lips.

Sweat dripped from the face down to her busty cleavage. Which bounced loosely as she struggled. Soon after she had stopped, her chest pounced quickly, making the breasts more of an amusement.

Her eyes flooded as I played the chisel over her. I made way with the chisel's sharp tip, up and down, slightly moving higher towards her face. Prominent and pulsing; veins weighed under her sideburns. With each slow passing second - I proceeded to slice a quarter of nipple gland off. As I watched in astonishment. Blood oozed, paving tributaries, streaming down her cleavage and past through a distinct ribcage.

With the uncomforting squeeze on my waist I just had to undo my belt – unbuttoning – loosening my navy chinos. Moments past as I stood there, in a slim cut three piece suit, starring down at her sensual features; lusting over those sweaty thick thighs and a cluster fuck pair of tits.

Rusty chains twirled and chuckled against her limbs; as they swung dangly behind her on an oak chair that was nailed down to the plank floor. She set there fractured, attempting to drift her mind somewhere far off, drenched in euphoria – yet it was improbable given her current situation. Her frizzle, faint-brown hair, unlocked the more sweat secreted as the pounding of her heart could be heard; slightly. The deeper the coldness of the chisel's tip sunk into her skin – the heavier her reoccurring breaths became.

Quarter past nine struck and my watch's alarm went off, cutting our moment short – luckily for her it meant a few moments of freedom from my sadistic thoughts, so I stopped. With a kiss to the forehead I bid her farewell.

I made way with my feet and began my morning stroll around the house. As I closed the door behind, a mutilating smell of rotting meat conjured faint memories of last month's hunt; which was orchestrated in dumbfounding precision taking a young deer's life.

The hallway was narrow and short. Shards of wallpaper hung over themselves like tropical vegetation under a light rainy season. Sums of fine American wood work made up a majority of the house's foundation and exterior design. The fridge hummed along to the pours of drizzle outside, with vast lack of furniture, even the slightest whisper of wind could be heard. My miniature lab was swallowed by the vibrant coloration of chemicals and enormous charts of biomedical experimentation. Whilst I and the young brunette mistress were eluded by the subliminal scenery, that of a subtropical forest, we had agreed upon settling our lives here.

Upon inspection of my mug as I gouged miniscule dust clusters out, rinsing it frequently followed by a routine of serving freshly brewed green tea. It spawned a familiarity of events that took place about five years back. Memories of the distant past, when I were still residing within the city, serving the sciences of biotechnology as a biomedical engineer. Those once delightful memories forced themselves onto me; disputing my attempts to brush them off.

After making my cup of coffee, at the final moments of my stroll, I rested my feet upon an oak table in the lounge. The couches had an assortment of coloured designs on their cushions. From a total of four only two were apparently degenerated – they lost the bulkiness and softness they once had. I switched on the television, grabbed my phone, opened up a forum on Reddit called 'ISIT' and whilst doing so I lit up a half done cigarette.

For several hours I sat there – divulging myself in the media presented onto me on the news, the trifling cigarettes, the remaining taste of coffee on the spoon, the beating of my feet on the table and the utterly devoid cup whilst the comfort of slouching on my worn out couch was vindicated. At this point I had finished about two packs.

Induced by thoughts of her succulent body once more, lingering across the hallway right down to the bedroom, to that paradise of a place. My mouth secreted the closer I came to the door. The aftertaste of tobacco accumulated at the tip of my tongue. I was within a high – effects of nicotine pulled a smile across my face – amplifying the saturation of everything around me.

My fingers shook the closer they got to the door knob. I twisted the knob with my sweaty palms. Slightly opening the door as it creaked, I peaked in, breathing heavily as my heart pounded.

A little giggle escaped as I glanced at her.

The room was dark and humid. Wet and sinister. She screamed through a sock I had put in her mouth. She struggled back and forth in the dark. With the miniscule rays of light that entered the room – her only sign of hope – she screamed louder banging her feet on the floor. She suddenly stop as the dust collected in the air. Half naked and defeated, she mastered up little strength she had left, she continued banging on the floor and screaming. There was no stop to this delightful sight.