It was a brisk but sunny winter day that the office doors flapped open to reveal. It’d been getting steadily colder over the last few weeks, something that always depressed Tom. Since meeting Charlotte, however, depression had become a thing of the past.
The first time they’d met at work, her white dress seemed to sparkle in the office’s fluorescent lights. The demure yet inviting placidity of her face, a gentle whisper is an ocean of wonder. He could wax poetic about her for days.
He’d spent hours talking to her, discovering they had tons in common. Only children, raised by single mothers. Good grades but they’d dropped out of college. Most importantly, they were both addicts. Tom always found it difficult to discuss his drug usage with anyone, and being able to speak so openly was a blessing.
She filled something in him.
In a whirlwind romance, Tom had moved Charlotte into his apartment a week later.
Trotting down the office steps and into his truck, Tom waved vigorously at Dr. Cosel before driving off. Since they’d moved in together, Charlotte had started working from home.
Gingerly opening the bedroom door, Tom stepped into their dim lovenest, fully nude. There was no pretense between them. There she was, in all of her ravishing ivory pallor. He took her hand and walked to the bed, kneeling over her exquisite form and bending to kiss the nape of her neck. Slithering down the remainder of her body, he stopped at the edge of her hipbones, jutting out at a tantalizing angle. He nipped and licked, tongue twirling in little circles, before moving to the sweet, luscious center waiting for him below.
In the throes of his passion, Tom moved a bit too suddenly and sent her hand, previously tangled in his hair, tumbling to the floor.
Sighing, Tom reached behind the dresser, placed the hand at the foot of the bed, and sat back on his heels, admiring his beauty.
The car crash had taken the majority of her face clean off, but he didn’t care. It gave her more of a mysterious allure. She’d nodded off at the wheel, high out of her mind, and had gone through the windshield and into a tree.
Swatting a fly away, he picked up one of the industrial syringes he’d stolen from work, inserted it into the gaping hole a tree branch had left in her sternum, and extracted a combination of fluids and meatier bits. Eyes filled with hungry lust, he gathered a handful of rotting viscera from the hole where her right breast had been and slathered it over his throbbing member.
Tom lovingly flicked a cluster of maggots away from her vaginal lips and positioned himself in-between her legs. Leaning down to let his tongue dance across hers, he inserted the syringe into his stomach and depressed it just as he entered her, his head lolling back in pure ecstasy.
He’d found his new addiction, the perfect drug.