Violent Writing Except (1)
“I told them, Carter, I told them!” His head snaps towards her. Her gaze flickers for a moment, but she continues, her voice shrill with defiance. “I told them everything!”
Carter turns to face her, his bullish arms glistening in the sunlight, veins bulging treacherously beneath his skin. “What?” he whispers. His breath seems to boil the air.
She doesn’t look away, but her trembling breath and flushed cheeks betray her apprehension. Regret pools in the depths of her gaze.
Her vision cuts to black as a weight plows into her side, bludgeoning her into the earth. Wringing his hands, Carter grasps her by the neck and pulls her up to his face. She struggles, but a jab to the gut stills her wriggling body. Her head lolls to the side.
“Look at me,” he snarls. “I said look at me!”
Carter drives a fist into her torso, and she whimpers as she desperately tries to cover herself. He beats her again, then again and again, each thrust harder than the last, hammering her until he feels her dark, ropey spittle spooling over his wrist.
Carter watches her face expectantly as he feels the taut stomach skin crumple like a snapped rubber band. He digs his foot into the exposed underbelly and leans, shifting his entirety into the child’s abdomen, pressing until he feels her tight, naked stomach quivering under his weight.
Hot blood thunders behind his ears. Dark beads of salt streak down his glistening forehead, tormenting his eyes. His lungs burn. She’s so soft, he muses. He almost wants to hug her.
He drops onto his knees, crushing her diaphragm. Her bulging eyes curl backwards as he slowly presses into her. Her mouth hangs slightly agape, her petite, ruby tongue just barely visible as she grapples for air. Carter feels an urgent warmth trickling beneath his knees, and his lips curl into a smile. God, it feels good.
Carter turns to face her, his bullish arms glistening in the sunlight, veins bulging treacherously beneath his skin. “What?” he whispers. His breath seems to boil the air.
She doesn’t look away, but her trembling breath and flushed cheeks betray her apprehension. Regret pools in the depths of her gaze.
Her vision cuts to black as a weight plows into her side, bludgeoning her into the earth. Wringing his hands, Carter grasps her by the neck and pulls her up to his face. She struggles, but a jab to the gut stills her wriggling body. Her head lolls to the side.
“Look at me,” he snarls. “I said look at me!”
Carter drives a fist into her torso, and she whimpers as she desperately tries to cover herself. He beats her again, then again and again, each thrust harder than the last, hammering her until he feels her dark, ropey spittle spooling over his wrist.
Carter watches her face expectantly as he feels the taut stomach skin crumple like a snapped rubber band. He digs his foot into the exposed underbelly and leans, shifting his entirety into the child’s abdomen, pressing until he feels her tight, naked stomach quivering under his weight.
Hot blood thunders behind his ears. Dark beads of salt streak down his glistening forehead, tormenting his eyes. His lungs burn. She’s so soft, he muses. He almost wants to hug her.
He drops onto his knees, crushing her diaphragm. Her bulging eyes curl backwards as he slowly presses into her. Her mouth hangs slightly agape, her petite, ruby tongue just barely visible as she grapples for air. Carter feels an urgent warmth trickling beneath his knees, and his lips curl into a smile. God, it feels good.
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