Bobby

Bobby stood at the head of the kitchen table. Her bright red apron wrapped tightly around her slender torso. With her eyes glazed over she looked like a trophy. Glistening in the candle light that lapped at the darkness. Oil dripping down her supple flesh. She closed her eyes. Her vision blurred.1

A burly man sat at the end of the table. His  Silverware arranged perfectly around him- eloquently. Like he had been taught as a young boy. Mistaken for a girl at the most bizarre of times. Now, he was the host. The cook. Admiring his meal. 2

Bobby's head fell to the side. Her fingers had long gone numb with the burning sensation of the salt her killer had rubbed deeply into her inflictions. Her gashing wounds. 3

The smell of seasoning was enough in itself to make bobby vomit. Try as she did, she swallowed it. Suppressed it inside of her. She knew she was going to die. There was no way she was leaving this world a projectile mess. 4

The man sharped his knives. The sound traveling through the room, echoing. Hitting Bobby hard as a the mans fist had when she had tried to fight him of. She was weak. The wrenched sounds made her weaker. The blood had dried, but the scent still remained. On her killers knuckles, knives, and her face.5

“I've waited a long time for a young bird like you Bobby,” the man said with a small chuckle. “Not every day an opportunity like this one comes flying by.”6

Bobby's killer stood up walking over to where he had tied her to a steel pole cemented into the kitchen floor. 7

“Besides who would pass up such tender breast as these?” the man said reaching for her bare c-cups. “Or such slender, silky thighs?” 8

Bobby felt the mans rough hands on her thighs, lingering, before he reached for her eye lids. His fingernails digging into her skin. He pulled them up, staring into her watery eyes. His crooked smile was the only thing that Bobby could make out in the darkness hidden my his heavy, broad shoulders.9

“Focus is the key to perfecting art. And art my dear, well you are a masterpiece. How easy you splayed yourself in front of me. I enjoyed crafting you into a scrumptious sculpture.”10

Bobby shuddered underneath the ropes. Her throat constricted as the man brought his hand towards her throat. Laying his lips to her oiled up neck he sank his teeth into her flesh. Deepening against her jugular vein.11

“I am going to delight in feasting on your luscious skin. I am going to diverge each and every organ inside your innocent, lifeless body. I will drink from you like wine on tap . You are my entree, main course, and my desert. My dear- you are heaven served on a sliver platter.