Like Sheep on Death Row

We'll sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of lies. Four and twenty blackbirds, stabbed in the eyes. AkuRoku.

Author's note: Heads up. It's another dark fic. I seem to be writing a lot of these lately.

Oh look now, baby, baby. Do you see me in the shower? I was—was—in there with the white tiles and the wafting steam, stripping naked for you, but honey baby sweetie pie you weren't there there there. Where were you, little one? I walked out and searched everywhere for you, even in the closet where our thirteen skeletons lay vertical and smiling and drinking syrupy poison! Where were you when I was with all the dead drybone ghosts here in my violet room? Where, where, WHERE? Taken the trash out? Making some money? Being the vain little shit you are?

... Or fucking that little slut by that apartment window across the street?

Ooooh. Secret's out, my little fuckpuppet. Shhh. Shhhhhhh! OH SHUT YOUR MOUTH, YOU SILLY GOOSE. Save your filthy smutty lies for later later LATER, and don't give me that stupid blank look. Where's your pretty little smile? Smile for me, honeybee, smile smile smile smile SMILEGODDAMNFUCKYOU.

Fine. Be that way. It doesn't change a thing.

... Oh yes, oh yessss, I saw you and that little willowy push-up bra girl with the angel baby face having a go at it on the window sill. Such a nice place to bone her, I'd bet. Oh her face was preeeetty. But I was paying more attention to yours.

No, no, I shouldn't be telling you this secret. Not at all. Not when I had my eyes on your blissful face and my hand down my pants jerking myself off while you fucked her senseless across the street from me in that fucking window. Oops! Secret's oooout. Again. Boohoo.

Oh your face. You should have seen your face. Her face was the Devil's. Satan in a girl's dress, no doubt. Glaaaass? Porcelain? Aaah, tragic. I'd give an arm and a leg to smash her sugary-sweet face in and hear it break to little bits and pieces! Oh what a sight that would be! And, and, and I'd give up a thousand roses and all the wine we have in our wooden cupboard to string you up by your neck with my leather belt and some wires.

But no, no, no. You're stroooong. Your nails left big black lines of pain all down my face whilst I carved a nice thick little ruby-red ring around your neck. I can see you with one green eye, the other is full of my blood and some of your fingernails. But your eyes—blue ocean spray—yours are now faded with that film of milky white. Fuck, fuuuuck. Bring back those baby blues. I'll pay you in coins and buttons and bottle caps; little circular jingletinks. Bring them back. Oh please, oh please.

Hey. Hey! Speak to me! SAY SOMETHING AND SPEAK TO ME you little BITCH. I'm talking to you and… and don't ignore me! Look this way.

Oh. Ohhhh. Are you afraid of the big bad kitchen knife in my slippery fingers? I know the damage I've done; I still so badly want to shove it into you and drop it on the floor and kick it under the sofa like it never existed. But I can't, love, I really can't. It's only for your own safety, darling. You did do some naughty things and you did ram yourself into that porcelain doll on Starlight Avenuuuue. Don't want you doing that again, do I? She's my adversary. The Antagonist. You, on the other hand... you're my Friend. Friend. Frieeeend. My loveeer.

Oh no.

Why're you slumping over like that? No, no. Get up. You'll mess the floor with all that red! Your eyes aren't fully white yet. Look. Yes? Cheeks still so warm and so flushed. I would kiss you, yes. Kiss you a billion times and assault your body with lovebites all down your throat, if it weren't full and tainted of your crimson liquid now. Tsk, tsk. We need to do something about that deep gash. It's making you look so pale pale pale. Like white lilies. Oh, yuckity yuck. I hate white lilies. I threw them out when you bought them last month, remember that, babyyyy? Haha, sucker! You got so angry at me! ...I would still kiss you though. But my lips are already bright red. And red might be my color, not yours. But still. Nah. You look terrible in red. I prefer you in blue and purple and blackblackblack. No actually, I prefer you without any clothes on, spread out beneath me, on your back. All for me to take.

Oh, oh, oh this will not do.

Ahhh, there we go. All better now. Man oh man, you're heavy. Even after all that loss of yummy sticky blood. Jesus.

Okay. You just sit on our lovely bed against the bedpost, yes? Sit up straight, okay? Don't make me string you up by the neck like I promised! I always keep my promises! You should know that by now; memorized fully and completely, yes? Do I have to remind you that I have some nails in my drawer? I don't want to screw them into your hands and feet and nail you to the wall, kiddo. Shhhh... stop that noise. Stop it. SHUT THE FUCK UP, BABY. You're too far gone. You don't want your pretty head falling off that smooth blood-spattered neck, no?

So... where were we? Yes. Kisses. I'd kiss you. Everywhere. Every-fucking-where. You've just got too many nice places for me to kiss. Oh. I'd ravish you with my lips, over and over. And then maybe I'd set this room and bed on fire with every matchstick I have. And I have a lot of them, you know? A lot. So so so many. Oh. Oh. Ohhhh. And then I'll sit back and watch you. Your dead shiny eyes, they'll light up like Christmas! And they'll replay what you did with her. And then, I'll pause the fucking thing and rewind it and play it again. And when I get tired of that and we're about to turn to ash and cinder and nothing, I'll take you too. I'll take you to heaven. It'll be a rough ride. And you'll scream my name in deep, deep silence.

But enough. I'll save that for another day. Your fingers are too icy cold and bloodless today.

Sleep tight, baby.

I'll come back and burn you later.