This is Faith. Dark hair, white skin, red rage inside of her. She is always moving, always trying to catch the thing that's chasing her, and so they run in circles.
This is Faith in prison. No room to run, no dark to hide in. She wants to come into the light, but they're harsh fluorescents, and they leach her away little by little, day by day. She has to hide the red down deep inside of her, or she'll lose that too and then who will she be?
This is Faith having sex. Her pants around her ankles, bare ass on a scratchy blanket, lying on a lumpy mattress. There's a woman going down on her, calloused hands on Faith's thighs, sharp tongue on Faith's clit, and Faith is staring at her hair, dirty blonde and buzzed short.
Faith never kisses them, never even touches them. But she has to get off somehow and she can't seem to do that for herself.
She never really could before, either, and that's what the boys were for, with their bodies for fucking and their minds for fucking and their hearts for eating. Nighttime toys and it was thinking of the look on their faces in the morning that made her come.
Now it's even harder, with the women and the fluorescent lights. The women are afraid of her, but they don't want her, they don't need her. She doesn't know their minds and they have no hearts to eat.
She looks at the woman and thinks about what she could do to her, anywhere but here, in the dark, or in the sunlight.
Faith could take the woman's head in her hands, hold it gently, palms pressed against the woman's cheeks, then, just as Faith was coming, twist until she heard the crack.
Faith could fuck the woman with a strap-on, pound her like dough, and stop her breath with one hand, so that her orgasm and her burning lungs were the last things that she felt.
Faith could kiss her until she trembled, until she was begging. Then Faith could push two fingers up inside of her and tear her open, cunt to sternum, and watch her reeking guts fall on the floor.
And that's what Faith does. She kills the woman over and over, every way she can think of, until finally she comes.
She pushes the woman away, pulls up her pants, lights a cigarette. Gives two to the woman, what the hell, then stretches out to smoke. The woman leaves. Faith lies on her back and stares into the light. It's still three hours until they turn them out.
One day, Faith thinks, a woman will be going down on her and Faith will be so diminished, so wasted away under the fluorescent lights that the woman will stick a shank into Faith's belly and Faith won't stop her. And all the red will spill away.
This is Faith dying.
FINIS
wow, intense. well written.