Art

Her dark skin was glistening in the sunlight, with a golden shimmer. She was beautiful laying there. 

It would’ve been a peaceful sight, if it wasn’t for the nasty gash across her throat and her eyes ripped open in fear. 

She probably shouldn’t have trusted me so easily, when I approached her in the bar. But anybody could admit that I did my work beautifully. 

Her body was a masterpiece, and my artistic additions were making it even more stunning. 

The sounds of the world were coming back to me as I admired my masterpiece. The thought of leaving her here exited me the same way it also hurt me. Sadly I’ve never been able to take my glorious pieces with me. But as her body turned pale, it was better to leave her where everybody could see the art only I was able to create. 

The perfect composition of dark blood on her mocha skin, the expression carved into her face, the way their ripped clothes showed off the body in the most stunning way. 

It really was a tragedy to leave it behind. But an artist must do what must be done, and share their piece with the world. 

Allowing myself to take one picture as a memory, I left my most recent creation behind as the blood began to dry and the body cooled down. 

It was most fun, to lure it with me to the edge of the canal and get to get a taste of it before turning it into the perfect masterpiece. 

My hunger burned for more. The ecstasy lighting my body on fire, turning me on like nothing else, screaming for me to create more. 

Oh how fulfilling being an artist of the highest caliber was.