The Horror Of Our Love

The Horror Of Our Love

A Short Story – By L. L. Ash

The Horror of Our Love  A short, dark romance based off of the song The Horror Of Our Love by Ludo from their album  You’re Awful, I Love You ©2008.

This is a fictitious story based off the words of the song and is a tribute to this awesome band.  Enjoy. Please listen to the song before reading. https://youtu.be/9kQ-0bBkMIY

Part One:

Killer God she is beautiful. So beautiful. She doesn’t even see me standing here, watching. Her lips are so full, wrapped around its neck like that.  Sumptuous.  Delicious. I need her. Cold, glacial eyes see me and widen.  I lift my hand and give her a tiny wave. The body falls to the ground at her feet as she lifts a hand, waving back at me. I need her. I can almost taste her skin, feel her silken flesh beneath my killer’s hands. I don’t feel. I never have. I don’t know what it feels to be sad, or happy. I don’t experience loneliness or anger, regret or conscious. Those things were expendable, anyway.  But she’s not. She’s a killer just like me. 

Immortal Who is that? And why is he staring at me like that? How could he have just watched me drain a body dry and still look at me like that?  Who is this man? I waved back at him, wondering if I should run or stay. He looked almost excited to see me. Why would a man be excited to see a killer? A vampire? I wipe my mouth on my sleeve, hoping no blood gave me away.  Either he didn’t see the body drop to the ground after I’d finished, or he is blind. Maybe he is blind and my secret is safe? I had to find out. Stepping over the body in the woods, I approach. “Who are you?” I ask him. “What’s your name?” “Hi,” he breathes, his eyes focus on me. He isn’t answering my questions, but I know already. I know why he looks at me like that. Looking back into his eyes, I see what’s missing. His soul. He is the kind without a soul. Psychopath, sociopath, whatever. I understand him. I’m one too. “Hi,” I finally breathe back, observing his face. He is handsome. Extraordinarily so. Why would God waste a body like this, just to be an empty shell? “I was watching you,” he says finally, putting out a hand as if to touch me but changing his mind and clasping it with his other behind his back. “You’re a killer too.” I nod. “Why do you kill?” I ask him, needing to know. “My insides tell me to. It’s the closest thing to happiness I get.” Ah, I see. “I kill to survive,” I whisper. “I don’t like it, but I have to.” “I need you,” he says matter of factly. “I need you…” “Why?” “Because my insides tell me I need you.” “What will you do to me?” Will he kill me? The thought wasn’t actually a bad one. “I need you,” he repeated before turning and running away through the woods, back into the town. I’d chosen a small town in the middle of old time Europe for a reason. It is cold, damp, and I feel comfortable in the dark. Will he rat me out? No. At least I hope he won’t. Nevertheless, it won’t be the last time I see him.

Killer A gift. I need to bring her a gift. She’s a killer like me…what would she want? I walk down the streets as I do every day, hiding who I truly am. Nobody knows that I am a killer. Nobody except her. As the sun sets, I take my time choosing who I will gift to her. A drunk man stumbles out of a bar and collapses on the ground. Too easy. Where is the fun if not in the hunt? A child’s laugh. No. Not big enough. Another man passes by me, a cigarette hanging out of his mouth.  Ah, he wants to die anyway. I reach out and in one swift motion I snap his neck, body falling to the ground with a satisfying thud. Yes, he will be a good present. I put the body over my shoulder and walk through the dark woods to her home. I followed her that night. I know her home. I’ve stood in her bedroom, I’ve smelled her sheets and I know the flavor of her toothpaste. Climbing up the stairs, I plop the body in a chair before pinning the note I’d made onto it’s lapel. You are beautiful. Maybe next time we can hunt together. Enjoy your dinner. Love, Killer She would understand. I’m not great with love notes or thoughts of romance. I can’t even process it, let alone create it. I climb back down until next time.  And there will be a next time.

Immortal What the hell is a body doing in my bedroom? I look around but nothing. No one was here, but the scent of someone remains. A hint of spice but a strong tinge of pine. The woods. There’s a note on the body’s jacket. I pull it off and see it’s from him. Killer. I smile. Killer. I don’t even know his name, but a killer is wooing me. He even brought me dinner. How I’m starving… I drain the body before stashing it away, then I go back home and stare at the note a little longer. His handwriting is nice. I wonder what a conversation with him would be like. I’ve never known someone like him before. I’ve been around for two hundred years, and usually the only people who become immortal like me go crazy and turn down the path to sociopathy. It kind of comes with the territory. Eventually you stop seeing people as people, but as food. They are what keeps me alive, and to stay alive, I must kill. The next night there is another body, then another body the night after. Each is lying in the same chair, a note attached to their chest. It’s cute and a little endearing. I want to see him again. See the brown, lifeless eyes, the young skin and tousled brown hair. I want to see his wide, inviting smile as he kills.  I’m sick. I know that. I’m under no illusions that I am normal or that I am right in the head. I am a vampire, a killer. I am an immortal.

Killer  I can sense her. I turn, looking around. She’s here, I just know it., dancing in the moonlight somewhere close by. Shutting my eyes, I can almost see her. I can smell the softness of her skin, the silk of her hair. My body reacts on its own, erection throbbing in my jeans as she gets closer and closer. “Surprise,” she says just behind my ear, her voice feathering over me, making me shiver. I need her. “Hi,” I say, feeling stupid for not being able to think of something else to say. “Hi,” she grins again. “I just wanted to thank you for my dinners. They were yummy.” “I’ll bring more,” I say quickly, wanting to roll my eyes at the stupid line. She giggles. “How about a game instead,” she whispers. “A game?” Her lips come closer, touching the shell of my ear. “Catch. Me.” she breathes and takes off. “Breathe,” I remind myself as I watch her run.  She is breathtaking, after all. I run after her, my heart beating furiously, my stomach a flutter of lust and desire for her skin as I track her. I don’t hear her anymore. She stopped somewhere. I will find you, my love. I will find you and eat you and taste you. You are mine.

Immortal He’s so close. I can smell his scent, hear his heart beating like crazy inside his chest. Life. He is alive. His lungs fill over and over in deep breaths as his body stops and he turns towards me. He can sense me too. Killer. I press my back against the tree that shields me and wait. I wait in complete silence, unbreathing, my heart still, for him to find me.

Killer She’s here. I can sense it. The woods look empty, pines standing tall like giant specters, dark in the night. Very little moonlight filters through to see anything, so I close my eyes and go to her. She calls out to me and I reach back. There. She is there. Three more steps and I go around the tree, seeing her standing there, back against the pine as she smiles, eyes sealed against the darkness. My body would have no more of the madness in my brain.  I need her.  NOW.

Immortal He found me, I can hear him breathing behind me. Oh God his scent is intoxicating. He comes around the tree, hand scraping against the bark and for a second I’m terrified. Killer has found me. I grin. A moment later I feel his hand close around my neck and feel his lips against mine.  Finally! I’ve been waiting for forever, it seems. His lips are beautiful, soft, fluid. I want to kiss him forever. He seems to have other ideas.  Jerking me around, I land on the bed of pine needles on the forest floor. They’re itchy but I hardly notice because he’s here. Right here on top of me. His breathing is erratic as he kisses me again, his mouth like a reservoir of life flowing back into me. But it feels like he needs me to. Like we need each other. His warmth feels strange against my skin as my fingers stroke his face. Cheeks stubbly with the day’s growth. Warm hands brushed down the curves of my body, succulent sensation as his fingers stopped to squeeze a hip, raise a thigh, then travel back up to take a breast in his hand. He is ravenous, desperate, and so am I. I press my hand against his wildly beating heart before pulling up the hem of his t-shirt. He shifted his shoulder to let me take off the black shirt, revealing a body he obviously takes care of. I suppose if you need to lift bodies on a regular basis, you would need strength. I was just lucky that my affliction came with the strength to deal with the leftovers. My brain was taken out of the equation when his hands pulled at the panties under my dress. I grind myself against him, feeling his mass, proudly fighting against the zipper of his jeans. Feeling merciful, I unbuttoned the jeans, slid down the zipper and released him from the confines. His shaft breaks free, unencumbered by anything beneath. I gasp at the large, throbbing member, pointing at me, accusing me. Tempting me. Daring me. My fingers close around him and he grunts, his eyes closing for a second before he sighs and looks at me. Empty shell meeting ice. Cold meeting colder. He dips down again, slowly, purposefully and touches his lips to mine. Gently.  “I need you,” he breathes against my lips. I need him too. I need him to touch me, to grind against my bones, to turn me into dust so our marrow could mingle. I need him in every atom of my being and he wasn’t close enough. “Then take me,” I answer back to him and took a greedy kiss until he is moving faster, digging deeper into me, touching me everywhere. Urging him until he is inside me, thrusting, my body bouncing with every plunge and withdrawal. My eyes flutter closed as I feel him. Killer. I feel him everywhere. His smell envelops me and and I breath him into my useless lungs.  Lips moving down, he bites down on me same as I bite on my victims, but he doesn’t draw blood. He savors and relishes in my skin. Devouring me with his mouth. As I will soon savor and relish in him.

Part Two:

Killer My eyes shoot open to the squawking sound of night birds. Darkness surrounds me.  How did I get here? Body cold and shivering in nakedness, I look around and see the long decrepit cathedral on the easternmost side of the valley.  How did I get here? Through the ceiling, I see slivers of moonlight filter in which gives me just the slightest light to see by. But I don’t need light. I can sense her. She is still with me. Fingers trail up the inside of my bare legs, teasing my skin, stroking the insides of my thighs before trailing over my hips and up my stomach. I have no concept anymore of the time or the day or the year. I only know her. See her. She is everything. She is time. Hey body is over mine, naked skin to naked skin as her mouth lingers near my neck. She wants me. I want her to have me. “Do you know what I am?” she asks, her voice breathy. “You are a killer like me.” “I am a vampire,” she sighs. “I am immortal. But I need your blood. I’m so hungry…” “Then take it,” I agree quickly.  She starves for me as I starve for her. I will be a part of her forever. My immortal breathes, sighs, than groans as her teeth prickle at my skin, breath brushing over me. She bites. My skin cries out in pain, and then there is pleasure. Sweet pleasure as she drains me. Her pale skin gleams and glows in the faint, midnight light. Her beauty radiating as she drinks from me, her servant. When she stops, I immediately turn her, hover over her as the wound on my neck bleeds. The ocean outside is vicious, waves crashing against the rocky shore as we meet again, until we can no longer tell where the edges of her and I begin.  My immortal and I are one, body and soul.

Immortal He is delicious. Perfect. His skin tastes like salt and sugar on my tongue, his blood tangy and metallic. Smooth and velvety as it goes down my throat.  Rivulets of blood drip down his neck, down his chest and over one perfect pec. My eyes focus on his chest, beginning to gather sweat with the exertion. Breaking down, my body swirls into climax as I lay there on the cold surface, crushed with his body against the aged stone altar.  He grunts again and again until he has found perfection in his release, chest pressing against mine as he lays against me. I breathe him in, memorize his scent and taste. “I need you,” he grinds out again. “You have me,” I agreed, wondering if he was already ready to go again.  He is ravenous and insatiable, and I love it.

Killer I need her. I need her inside me as I am inside her.  I need her blood and her unbeating heart as it lays stagnant in her chest. I will make her heart beat again. My fingers touch a shard of glass, curl around it, and plunge it into her chest. I am mad for a piece of my immortal.  I want her to need me as I need her. She gasps and grunts with shock and pain as the glass breaks through her skin, tearing open the cavity in her chest. Avoiding her perfect breasts, I crack it open, and see her heart. Red and glimmering but unbeating. “Killer!” She groans and her eyes shutter closed against the pain. “Just a little pain,” I tell her sleeping body. “A little pain and we will be one.” Grasping her heart in my hand, I pull until the chords break, snapping away from the muscle. I hold her cold heart against my chest, blood dripping from my hands and down my body as I feel her next to me. So close to my heart. “Wake now,” I tell her, touching her ice cold cheek. “Wake now. See our hearts together as one.” She doesn’t move. Doesn’t wake. I touch her face but nothing. My stomach bottoms out. She is dead. I slip her heart back into her chest and take my hands away. Catastrophe and death follow me. Even my immortal love dies at my touch. Frustration wells within my guts as I go back to her, pick her up and hold her limp body in mine. I love her.  I love her. She dies.

Part Three:

Killer I stare into the sea; her body floated out hours ago. My love living with the sharks now, fish food instead of resting in my arms as she should be. The grey tones of dawn creep up against the sky, lifting the darkness of the best night of my life. The night I had my love. That’s when I see it. A lithe, flowing figure walking toward me along the continental shelf. Her blond hair flowing, white nightgown shifting in the breeze around her.  My love.  My immortal. Skin shimmering blue and white like snowflakes in the light. Her lips spread into a smile. “Come,” she breathes on the wind, words floating toward me like a dream. My heart pumps rapidly, banging against my rib cage. She’s a specter, a beautiful ghost. Fear trembles through my body unlike I’ve ever felt before. “Come,” she breathes again.  A whisper. My feet move without my brain’s permission. My love is back. I run to her and her grin widens. She lets me chase her across the rocky shore, her feet never touching the ground as we dance the dance of hunters. “Come,” she says again, her hands outstretched toward me as she floats above the water. I move toward her, the cold water crashing over my feet and legs.  My body serfs through the water until the shelf drops from beneath my feet. “Come…” she whispers below me, hair spidering around her head as it floats in the dark water. I dive, reaching for her. Her outstretched hand stays just out of reach until I reach the sandy bottom. Her body lay there, naked and inviting on the ocean floor. I grab for her, my lungs burning for air. “Mine,” her voice echoes through my ears in the ocean around me, her spirit drifting back into her body as I hold it to me. “Mine,” I agree, my last bit of air traveling up through the water in violent bubbles until my chest contracts, body convulsing as I gasp in water. Eyes drifting closed, I hold her until my body dims. Mine. My love.  My immortal.

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