She was quite a beautiful creature in life.
Now, in death, lying cold and still on my tiled floor, she still retained the beauty that her fragile face had held only hours before. Her skin shone gently, glowing. In the darkness, her glazed eyes reflected the dim light that sifted through the curtains as they stared unseeing at the wooden ceiling. Around her head lay a pool of cooling blood, a deep magenta in the light of the moon.
At least I could touch her now, and she couldn’t fight me off. I lightly stroked her cheekbone and felt the last of the heat leave her body. Running my finger through the little red lake that graced her skull like an angel’s halo, I leant down and brushed my lips against her forehead. I lifted my finger up and let a single drop of her sweet blood fall between her parted lips.
“Sleep tight, my princess.” I whispered as I slipped my black silk gloves onto my pale hands, but not before inhaling the delicious scent that the blood residue had left on my right index finger.