Talia

Sally knew his alarm was going to go off soon, but didn’t want his dream to end.

He was in the morgue, his favorite place, nude and erect. The cool air in the room gave him goosebumps, but he didn’t care. He liked the cold; cold air, and cold cunts. There was something special for him and he knew it was in drawer 137. Like a specter, he glided across the room, to stand in front of the drawer. He shivered with anticipation as he pulled it out. There she was; Talia.

She was covered with a white sheet, only her beautiful face left exposed. Sally brushed an errant hair from Talia’s forehead, pushed it back into the black fan around her head. Cold breasts pushed against the sheet, dead nipples made little tents.

He stroked himself, trying not to blow just looking at her. Like a kid on Christmas, he began pulling the sheet down. The gentle curves of the top of her breasts gave way to pierced nipples. He couldn’t wait to bite them off.

The paleness of her skin was even greater in death. Lividity, the pooling of blood in the lower regions, had set in. Talia’s back, ass and the rear of her legs were a bruised purple. The rest of her skin remained pale white. 

Sally kept pulling the sheet getting to his favorite; her pussy. A thin strip of hair welcomed him, showing him to the promised land. The fun he was about to have was nearly too much. There it was. Her dead slit stared at him dry, but welcoming. It didn’t matter, he was going to moisten it up. Dead cunt was the best tasting cunt. No sweat, stink or discharge, just pure flesh. 

He threw the sheet from her like a magician revealing his assistant.

“I’ve been waiting for this since the day I saw you.” He touched her and let his finger play on her clit. He parted her and ran his finger down to her puckered asshole. “Finally,” he put his finger to his nose and then into his mouth. “Mmm,” he moaned, one hand still on his cock, which was slick with pre-cum.

“Taste it at the source,” Talia said, her red eyes opening, staring up at Sally.

Sally should’ve been shocked and scared a corpse was talking to him, but wasn’t. It almost felt normal. He just hoped she was still cold inside.

Talia sat up on the metal table and spun, hanging her legs off the edge. “Come get it,” she beckoned, spreading her legs, exposing her dry sex. Her inner folds were parched and wrinkled, but to Sally they were divine.

Sally smiled and knelt, letting her guide his face into her crotch. His tongue ran up her vagina and he smiled. Still cold. He ate her, ravenously, lapping her up. The taste of his spit and her dead pussy was nearly too much for him.

As if reading his mind, Talia said, “Ok, that’s enough of that.” She pulled his hair, making him stand and kissed him. Her tongue, ice cold and dry, shot into his mouth.

Sally plunged his tongue into her mouth, hoping she liked the taste of her pussy as much as he did. He felt her hand, powder dry and cool, on his cock, pulling him forward. Without looking, he felt her cool pussy lips touch his tip.

Sally shuddered, thrusting forward. Her cold, tightness enveloped him. If felt like fucking snow and he loved it. He wasn’t going to hold out long as he fucked her. His balls slapped the edge of the metal table, the cold pain in his stomach nearly bringing him to orgasm. He broke the kiss so he could look down. He wanted to watch his cock enter her, fill her up, his warmth, her coldness.

Her flesh yielded to him with every plunge. Pale cunt welcomed him into her.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned, still watching the performance. “I’m gonna bust,” he said. A smell hit him. Something animalistic. He’d fucked a fair share of dead girls, but never smelled anything like this. He looked up.

A demon face stared back. Burnt, blackened fur, stubby horns and a mouth full of yellow teeth smiled at him.

“Blood makes the best lube,” the demon Talia said, her fiendish grin widening. Impossible rows of crooked, sharp and yellowed teeth spread wide. A decaying stench wafted up from the depths of her maw. She grabbed the back of his neck, claws sliding into flesh, and drew him forward into her jaws.

“Fuck,” Sally said, waking up from the dream. He sat up, his heart racing and looked around.

Nothing. He was in his apartment alone. He turned on the light just to be sure. The phantom pain from the dream lingered and he touched the back of his neck, expecting to feel claw marks. Nothing. It was only a dream, but something from it remained; his erection.

Sally checked the clock. He still had time before the movie. He stood up and walked out of his bedroom in his underwear.

Talia stood in the shadows, watching.

Sally opened the fridge and pulled out a paper bag. He set it on the counter and pulled out the gruesome contents.

A vagina was wrapped in wax paper like cold cuts. A souvenir from his trip to the morgue the previous night.

Dennis, the prude medical examiner wouldn’t let him bite the girl. He said they’d get caught if she was bit up. Sally told him he’d avoid her face, but he knew that was a lie. Cheek meat was some of the best meat. This was the concession. Dennis helped Sally cut the girl’s entire cunt out. The good parts at least.

Sally looked lovingly at it in the dimness of the hood light above the stove. He dropped his underwear, springing his cock free. He picked up the cold slab of meat and positioned it over his tip.

A smell hit him.

A familiar smell.

An animal smell.

Sally heard growling from the small living room. He put the severed vagina back on the counter, pulled up his underwear and grabbed a knife from the butcher’s block.

“Wrong apartment, motherfucker,” he said, moving forward to find the light switch. Bright light assaulted him. He had to blink at the sight of the figure standing in front of him.

It was Talia. She was slick with blood; her mouth and chest were dripping with it. In her right hand was a familiar razor and in her left was a familiar head; Ingrid’s.

Sally’s eyes looked at the severed head and razor, never flinching. It was going to take more than a decapitation to shake him. That was fucking child’s play.

Talia threw the severed head, the scissors still firmly embedded in the eyeball.

Sally didn’t flinch as it came to rest at his feet. He stepped over it, knife held in front of him.

“I’m going to fucking carve you up,” he said, circling her. “I’m going to cut you, kill you and fuck you,” he swiped at her.

Talia moved with him, the razor held in front like she knew what she was doing. She avoided the attack, but barely. She had a role to play.

Sally switched the knife to his left hand, thrusting out. The tip dug into Talia’s forearm.

“Ah,” she winced, pulling back. 

Sally smiled, something alien for his face that was reserved for murder or necrophilia. “Put your weapon down and I’ll slit your throat like I did to that whore, Simone.”

Talia seethed at hearing her friend’s name. She wanted to take her demon form and shred him, but he needed to suffer. Her eyes were still normal. She was saving that until she was ready to destroy him.

“You bastard,” she said, swinging wildly at him, leaving herself intentionally open.

Sally had years of knife fighting experience and had killed dozens if not hundreds of people with blades. He stepped in, grabbing her weapon arm, neutralizing the razor. Like a sewing machine, he thrust his knife into the side of her ribs over and over.

His touch to her skin nearly overloaded her.

‘Young eyes looked at the dead cat. It was writhing with maggots. Little fingers entered it. A dog hit by a car, whimpering in pain on the shoulder, a lighter and can of gas. Men crying, watching. A flash of a razor, spray of blood and tears. A woman, his mother, crying at what her son was, what she always knew he was. Dead girls, oh the dead girls, cold and vulnerable. The cold tightness of their bodies, the rigored fight of their flesh as alien teeth entered them. Simone, the other men ravaging her. A blade across the neck, a shipping container, grunts in the dark…and biting.’ 

“No,” Talia moaned, trying to spin on him to free her arm. She collapsed as he kept stabbing.

Sally followed her to the ground, sitting on her chest. He put the blade against her chin, the tip dimpling her skin.

“I’m going to save your face for last. That’s my favorite bit of girl meat.” He grinned at her. “That and your tits,” he ran the tips of the blade down her neck and over the top of her left breast.

Talia had dropped the razor during the attack, but she didn’t need it. She smiled at him.

Sally had seen a lot of crazy things, but never a person stabbed multiple times smiling. He looked at the knife blade and frowned. There was no blood on it. Nothing. Not a drop or smear.

“What the fuck?” he said, as Talia reached up and grabbed the blade.

Her fingers closed around cold steel. She should be cut to the bone, blood pouring from severed fingers, but she wasn’t. She was still smiling.

“Oh, Sally,” she said, her voice sounding like gravel. “You’ve been a bad boy,” with almost no effort, Talia began turning the knife back toward Sally.

“You fucking monster!” he yelled, trying to pull the blade away from her. For the first time in his miserable life, he was afraid. She twisted his arm, the tip of the blade encroaching closer to his bare gut.

Talia’s eyes lit up red. The fear in Sally’s face was nearly orgasmic for her. She pushed the blade, slowly. Sure, she could’ve slammed it home, but the terror on his face was heaven.

“No,” Sally punched her in the face with his free hand. “No,” he cried, feeling the blade enter his flesh. He thrashed, punching her with everything he had.

Talia laughed, the blows tickling her. She pushed the blade farther, feeling soft flesh yield to its edge. Blood ran from the wound, but not a lot. Not yet. Intestines severed as the blade found more softness for its enjoyment. 

Sally’s bladder popped as the blade dug further. Blood and shit-strewn piss leaked from his pierced gut.

Talia reached up and grabbed him behind his neck. She felt herself changing, a feeling once scary, now felt normal. Her clawed fingers dug into the back of his neck, entering his flesh.

Fear flashed on his face. Not the fear of death, but the fear of Hell. He stared into Talia’s red eyes and could swear he saw the flickering of flames.

Talia pulled him down and drove the blade deep into him. Her face shifted, rows of yellow teeth sprouting. They had one purpose and one purpose only.

Sally screamed as the unnaturally wide jaws closed over his mouth. It was like they were kissing, Talia’s head turned to the side.

Talia bit.

Sally’s jaw, soft palate, teeth and tongue were crushed and ripped from his face.

She chewed the bone, teeth and tissue as she ran the knife up his gut. 

Sally’s flesh submitted to the steel. His organs poured out of him in wet chunks, coating Talia in warm gore.

Talia went in for another bite, hoping Sally was savoring his pain, but he was already dead. His limp corpse flopped down on her like a spent lover.

An old feeling came over her. One she didn’t think she was capable of anymore; lust. She threw Sally’s corpse off her, letting his faceless mess land on the floor. Shattered bone where his jaw used to be stared up at her. 

Talia felt her demonic pussy swelling, filling with wetness. She dipped her clawed fingers in Sally’s blood, savoring the slickness of it. Roughly, she jammed her hand down her pants.

Blood made the best lube.