Hands of Blood

Hands of Blood

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    LECTURAS 6
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    Votos 2
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    Partes 1
WpMetadataReadContenido adultoContinúa<5 mins
WpMetadataNoticeÚltima publicación mié, may 1, 2019
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Ficción
Misterio
A girl is sold by her mother. The murder of the one who sold her was just one of the countless deaths she had been forced to watch since she was 13. When she was 16, she had to deal with his first death by her hands, killing her first victim with a drill. Five years later, she burned the house that she was kept. Inside the house were the body of her executioner and the memories of every year living as an apprentice and lover. Without any modesty or guilt, now she was walking alone accompanied only by the insatiable desire to satisfy her cruel instinct to kill. More than a story, we have a existential question that disturbs us for centuries: Are we born good or bad, or are we just a result of everything around us? Would you be able to condemn her after knowing her story? After all, is the blood in her hands or ours?
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*Mature Content Warning* I rest both my hands against the table. "I'll go on another date with you, if you tell me one thing about yourself that no one else knows." He's silent for a long moment, pondering my offer. Eventually he quirks his fingers at me. "Lean closer." Bracing myself against the table, I lean over it toward him, noting every detail about his face as I get closer. Every hair, every freckle. His beautiful is unimaginable. His breath warms my skin, dancing over my ear as I dip my head toward him. Will he kiss me, and make good on my sinful thoughts? His voice is like an erotic caress as he murmurs in my ear, "I'm a murderer." *** She cannot escape him. On a blind-date, she unknowingly meets the most dangerous man to exist, and falls into his world of darkness and desire as both his mate, and his worst enemy.

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