Love Is Bloody

Only prose is allowed.Story limit per entry is 3 paragraphs.

I'll start us off!


There we stood under the chill of the full moon.Our eyes locked and we sensed each others heart beat.We wrapped our arms around one another.Our telepathic link peaking as our joined pulse rocket to new levels of ecstasy.Slowly,we our lips met,our tongues swam with the force of an up river rainbow fish.

I pulled off her diamond choker,and begin to lick her smooth warm neck.One nibble after another more drops of blood slid down her neck to her breasts.I ripped open her shirt and slurped ever drop up.Hearing her moan I circle her nipples with my tongue.She forces me to my back.

She gets on her knees and slowly crawls towards me.She moves open towards my belt,and takes it off with her Stiletto like fangs.She seductively drags her nails down my chest leaving a trail of blood.Her nails still drenched with my blood,she moves one hand deep inside of her body,and wraps the other around my sabre.Fiercely she moves both hands with rapid and savage enthusiasm.

“And then the fiends came from the hells to drag us both back into the pits from whence we came. I had made pacts with the Old Ones and now I would pay for them dearly!” Thus spoke the male vampire as his lover transformed before him into a ferocious demonic being that was surely a descendant of Lilith from times beyond the mind of mortals. From out her body she pulled a tentacle with a hooked claw on the end of it, and with the hand that was already grasping him she tore off his manhood with a sickening crunch. But she loved him, oh how she loved him! And so she reached into his chest with the hooked claw and pulled out his still-beating heart, kissing it and licking it as she did so. As one might kiss a lover!

From his corpse, she dragged his soul kicking and screaming, and held it close until the demons came for them. “I am ready to depart!” she said, and the Old Ones moved in their slumbers as the twisted lovers went down into the depths beneath the world. There, the ancient and primordial vampiress resurrected her lover in a far more fitting form… and united him to all the others she had loved down through the ages. This collection of male lovers was meshed together into an enormous mass of fused flesh that was totally stretched from body to body, with countless bodies formed like so much putty together… into a gigantic ball of writhing forms. Exposed bone and sinew could be seen peeking out from the horrible monstrosity, and the screams of those thus tormented into such a shape echoes throughout the hidden places wherein this grotesque shaping took place. But she loved them; she had loved them all, and could never part with them! But her love was twisted by sadistic pleasures far beyond the comprehension of saner minds, and alas her beautiful male vampire lover could only feed upon himself as each form in the entwined shape sucked upon the blood of the one fused to him. Constant thirst brought constant drinking, and so they drank their own blood, unable to do aught else.

Once in a while, the vampire lady would come over and tear off a piece of flesh to nibble upon and suck the blood from. She would then mesh it back into place with dark arcane skill, and a true surgeon’s talent for visceral creativity. One evening, she felt sorry for her former lover, the last to be thus conjoined to his peers, and so she tore him from the great melded shape and dragged him down into the tunnels below. To greater heights of both pain and pleasure! She had such sights to show him, after all, and the night was endless in that sunless hell-realm.

You know, I read that part of the story I wrote to my brother when he came over to visit today and he said: "Oh my! Oh my God! That is... intense. Oh my God!" And he likes some pretty bloody horror movies (who doesn't?) so that's saying somehing. He also said it would be hard to do a sequel to that story, the way I left it off. Probably why nobody has picked it up yet! Once you have writhing flesh-melded bodies, a sadistic vampire demoness from Hell, and fiendish, heart-ripping tentacles... where can the story go from there? Lol.

He had always been hot but she wanted him to be even hotter. So she put his warm flesh into a large metal bull and lit the fire underneath it. At first she could hear his painful moans but as the bull heated up she could hear the popping of his bones. She put out the fire and pulled him out. He was only half baked but she supposed it would have to do for what came next...

From romance to infernal devices.. And their not even married yet! Lol

ThePintSizdSlasher said:He had always been hot but she wanted him to be even hotter. So she put his warm flesh into a large metal bull and lit the fire underneath it. At first she could hear his painful moans but as the bull heated up she could hear the popping of his bones. She put out the fire and pulled him out. He was only half baked but she supposed it would have to do for what came next...

I like this... it is soooo creative. I must see what I can come up with next! With such devious minds at work, anything is possible.

Okay, I’m going to kick things up a notch here so prepare your sanity for the madness to come!

For three days and three nights, the man who had been placed within the brass bull to burn had been offered the very ambrosia of the gods, stolen from the heart of Olympus to serve as the instrument by which the damned might be raised whole after a period of anguish potent enough to kill even a god, let alone a man. Was he even a man any longer? As he lay outstretched upon the ebony altar in the heart of the city of seven gates, the vampire goddess who had been his lover presented him to the queen of that domain. Terrible Ganzir, whose hair was black as the darkest abyss, and whose eyes displayed neither mirth nor displeasure, only diabolic amusement… the sort a cat might when stalking its’ prey. The queen licked her lips as she looked at the man. He had been handsome once, but now he was being changed, altered: remade into something else. “Work on him, until he is fit to sit at my side!” she commanded, and then the vampire goddess took a sharp sickle and sliced away his manhood with the utmost skill and precision. He was in a stupor imposed upon his wits by the ambrosia, drugged as it was by darker properties found only in the pale queen’s domain. For hours, the sickle rose and fell and hands melded flesh into shapes other than what nature had intended from birth for the man to wear. Horrors ensued! Blood and viscera flowed, ebbed, stretched, and were severed: as hours seemed to pass like an eternity of cycles. Was this why so many of the Titans had of old preferred to make their forms after the likeness of machines? Did they fear such perverse tortures as only the minds of those now their jailors could devise! Oh aye, they feared this and worse than this. For more cunning minds existed in the deep places of the Netherworld, where madness bloomed like blood-red roses, wet by the waters of the underground reservoir wherein the Great Old Ones slumbered, dead but dreaming their insane dreams, which snake so oft into the slumbering minds of mortals, sometimes causing a war or two, or a genocide here and there. But it was not the Great Old Ones who were the authors of those horrors… mans’ own imagination birth all such atrocities.

After gleefully experimenting with countless forms, it was decided he would best serve Ganzir as a woman, and so he was fashioned into the most beautiful woman anyone had ever seen either in Heaven or on Earth. He was awakened from his transformation and dragged before the queen of the dead and the damned. He… she now… had an alien sort of beauty since her hair and eyebrows had been shaved off completely. And so nothing of her existence as a man remained, but even less of her former lovely tresses! She was naked before the queen, naked and trembling. “Tell me, my pet, are you a god?” the pale lady so mockingly asked of her prisoner. The woman who had been a man refused to answer, for she knew to say she was not a god would mean death, and to claim godhood would be blasphemy. Both would lead to further torments. “Did you think my daughter loved you, mortal?” She mocked further… then with a sharp fingernail Ganzir sliced upon one of the woman’s breasts and began to suck upon her blood by that savagely sanguine means. The vampire goddess was pleasing herself with the sliced away manhood, when the queen demanded her to cease and to at once burn the vile instrument. The vampire goddess who was the queen’s daughter (one of countless such children) stepped into the brass bull with her “toy” and burned herself along with it until nothing remained. Her spirit would rise from that, only to inhabit new flesh, for within the land of no return there is not any death, as mortals know it, only either eternal torment or endless bliss. Or creative combinations of both! To which the queen turned her twisted thoughts, regarding the woman before her. The woman’s beauty reminded Ganzir of her sister Ishtar, whom she had an eternal rivalry with broken only by the thinnest of truces. She burned with the desire to visit upon this woman all that she had longed to visit upon her divine sister, but which the other gods forbade her from indulging in even when Ishtar was crucified in her domain so long ago. “I shall not nail this one to a tree, a stake, or even a cross! Rather, I will bind her fast to my will and remake her in my image rather than that of any god or goddess that might have been this one’s creator!” In this, she could spite the gods and indulge darker impulses.

“Let me perish, that I may be with she who loved me more than you!” the woman said, but the queen of the damned would not be moved to pity. That was never her nature. “Oh, sweet creature mine, you will know the love of a goddess far and away beyond that which you had known in her none too tender arms! Let me show you what love means to one who has seen as much darkness and doom as I… I who am Mistress Death herself.” And so Ganzir placed a fierce kiss upon her captive, who did not resist. Something stirred in both of them, and madness overtook them. Blood was tinged in every kiss, for Ganzir’s fanged teeth pierced deep, the beautiful woman’s lips spicing the wine of their vampire kisses. The woman was by now fully turned into one of the undead herself, and she became that day… if day it be in the Netherworld… the very dearest lover of the pale queen. But the vampire goddess who had burned herself to death craved revenge for being driven into such insane and morbid doom. So she possessed the body of a powerful female Titan, breaking free of the chains that held her fast in the pits of Tartarus, in the abysses beneath the city of seven gates. When she emerged from the pits, having clawed her way from them like a zombie from the gave… she stormed into the queen’s chambers and tore the woman who was now the queen’s paramour to pieces, making sure to tear off her head and remove her heart… ensuring that even a vampire woman could not return in that particular body again. “She was mine before she was yours!” the Titan screamed at the queen, and the queen called for the Titan’s banishment back into Tartarus once again. This time bound not with chains but with her own flesh and sinews, twisted into rope-like shapes that held the Titan lady suspended over a flaming pit full of screaming souls. For her sick and twisted love, she was tormented thus. For Ganzir was never known for being merciful.

So true you are a very talented writer.

Your words are a hard act to follow.Seriously,you should consider getting published.

Kizu And The Crimson Vine

Kizu had always took pride is his deduction skills, even if they were questionable paranoid mind rants at times. Feeling more calm than he had before, Kizu made his way closer to the garden , he thought he might as well water the plants just in case he wasn`t dreaming.  Grabbing the water can from the assorted shelf of gardening tools ; he turned his attention to the seemingly normal plant life he realized something foreign to anything he had ever seen. The plants were completely entangled in some kind of red pulsing vine. The garden life now looking more like the innards of a living human being began to shine off an ominous crimson light that nearly blinded the young Kizu. Shielding his eyes from the powerful shimmer of the alien like species, he hesitantly reached out to take a small piece of the strange vine. Almost instantly after taking hold of the plant, the vines that engulfed it began to do the same to kizu; violently climbing up his forearm and sowing themselves into the depths of his skin.  An unforgiving pain shot through his entire body and forced him to his knees. Though It proved useless, the vines had already implanted themselves into his skin and Kizu could only imagine how deep they really had dug. The burning sensation was unbearable and Kizu couldn`t hold back tears any longer.  As tears streamed down the ghost white complection of the young boy, he began to feel a tremendous amount of fear for his life. This pain was too real to be  a dream and the emotions he was feeling were to unbelievably harsh to pass off as a simple nightmare. The young Kizu began to think of the young girl that he had loved for years, and how much he and her both would miss each other if his life were to end. This thought alone was far more concerning than the relentless pain that shot through his body. Kizu had always been dependant on the love and warmth of the young girl Pai who he shared a priceless and sacred bond with, devoting most of the past few years of his life to her presence.

 Kizu couldn't help but remember the nostalgic memories of his past, as him and Pai have known each other ever since they were toddlers,  they attended the same public school in Kantu since the beginning of their education. Both have been the top student in all subjects since as long as anyone can remember. Not until the 6th year of their schooling did the two become friends , at which point you couldn't separate them if you tried. Most people think their personalities are what brought them together. Some might say that they're relationship was a fairy tale in itself.

Suddenly another crimson light began to shine brightly , but this time the source of the light was not from the garden; the luminous gleam was now coming from the inside of Kizus' forearm where most of the vines had penetrated his skin. All of the vain-like vines had all receded inside only leaving an odd symbol; one that Kizu had never seen before. Within an instant the arduous gleam swiftly transformed into an all consuming blackness. All was void with the exception of that symbol. Love.

Sorry, I didn't see the three paragraph limit. Disregard this as an entry.

Its fine and great material.