I ran my hands up this girl’s sides our mouths and tongues locked in a passionate kiss. She squirmed as I softly bit on her lip, enjoying it; I ran my hands back down her sides to the small of her back. Feeling her pulse through my fingers I knew she was almost dead. Her pulse was slowing and starting to skip beats, I anticipated the twitch that signaled her death and when it came I dropped her now lifeless body to the ground and walked off, pulling my hood up. I looked around, someone will find her eventually.
My kisses had been deadly since about fourteen years ago. I had been three then and when my mother had come to kiss me goodnight I accidently killed her. That's when my curse first showed up; she laid dead on my bed while I screamed for dad. My dad rushed in took one look around and screamed. He had blamed it on me. Not soon after this incident I got kicked out on to the streets. I soon found myself in a foster home and I stayed there until about a year ago when a family had decided to adopt me. I don't know why they adopted me. I was a 17 year old boy named Death with a kiss that could kill.