Morning Gory
Morning Gory
A cawing raven compels the young woman to rouse from her slumber. Still somewhat stiff from the previous night’s escapades, she stretches in her warm bed of straw. She lets out a girlish moan of pleasure as her body’s joints pop and shift back into their natural configuration.
Slathered in blood, her nude form glistens red in the morning sun. She raises a hand to block the suns warming rays from her eyes, golden orbs that gleam unnaturally within the shadows casts upon her face.
A wide grin spreads across her face revealing a wicked set of canine fangs. She admires the razor sharp claws jutting out from her slender fingers, still dyed red from her hellish night of carnage. Her supple body basks in the afterglow of her transformation.
She feels impossibly strong. Nothing within a five mile radius is unknown to her. Her nose picks up the myriad of scents and translates them perfectly. From the smallest field mouse to the musky scent of her mother still fighting her own transformation in a ruined structure across the field. The whole world is laid bare before her.
One scent in particular she has come to adore. That succulent coppery fluid that even now still oozes from the remains of the previous night’s guest. Their gnarled bones bathed within pools of deep crimson. She draws her bloody hand close and laps up the rich flavor with her long lupine tongue.
The cries of that child still echo within dark recesses of her mind. Somewhere, buried deep within her blackened soul lies a crushing sense of guilt for what she’s committed. She pushes the thought deep down and tries to forget them. She just can’t give up the pleasures of this intense power, not now, when she’s so close to achieving her vengeance. Even if she wanted to would it even be physically possible?
“Tonight for sure,” she thinks to herself. ‘I’ll bestow this dark gift to Cosette, then Mother will have no choice but to relent and give in to her transformation.”
Though only her subconscious was aware of it, she felt sure that this crushing feeling of guilt would vanish if she could succeed at inflicting this same corruption onto the rest of her family. The thought of crushing that Lords skull in her jaws was just too tantalizing. She could taste it already, the ecstasy his dying screams would bathe her in.
Slathered in blood, her nude form glistens red in the morning sun. She raises a hand to block the suns warming rays from her eyes, golden orbs that gleam unnaturally within the shadows casts upon her face.
A wide grin spreads across her face revealing a wicked set of canine fangs. She admires the razor sharp claws jutting out from her slender fingers, still dyed red from her hellish night of carnage. Her supple body basks in the afterglow of her transformation.
She feels impossibly strong. Nothing within a five mile radius is unknown to her. Her nose picks up the myriad of scents and translates them perfectly. From the smallest field mouse to the musky scent of her mother still fighting her own transformation in a ruined structure across the field. The whole world is laid bare before her.
One scent in particular she has come to adore. That succulent coppery fluid that even now still oozes from the remains of the previous night’s guest. Their gnarled bones bathed within pools of deep crimson. She draws her bloody hand close and laps up the rich flavor with her long lupine tongue.
The cries of that child still echo within dark recesses of her mind. Somewhere, buried deep within her blackened soul lies a crushing sense of guilt for what she’s committed. She pushes the thought deep down and tries to forget them. She just can’t give up the pleasures of this intense power, not now, when she’s so close to achieving her vengeance. Even if she wanted to would it even be physically possible?
“Tonight for sure,” she thinks to herself. ‘I’ll bestow this dark gift to Cosette, then Mother will have no choice but to relent and give in to her transformation.”
Though only her subconscious was aware of it, she felt sure that this crushing feeling of guilt would vanish if she could succeed at inflicting this same corruption onto the rest of her family. The thought of crushing that Lords skull in her jaws was just too tantalizing. She could taste it already, the ecstasy his dying screams would bathe her in.
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