The Deceased God's Spirit World Miss

Chapter 1 Part 1

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Not many are able to put from their mind what they are doing and focus on how it feels. To become entirely despondent about your actions as a whole. To narrow your mind and sight into what you feel from touch, what you smell and breath, and how you feel about each one individually as opposed to looking at all of them as a whole. Addoraca is one of the rare few who is able to do this.

A welcoming human-like warmth reached elbows from her hands. The tepid heat was like being embraced by a lover, a feeling Addor had yet to experience in her young adult life. Her fingers grazed past all sorts of textures and resistances. Some soft enough to slip from her fingers, others hard enough that the strength she has may not be enough to make them break. All of it was coated with the same heated liquid that covered her arms. This warmth, this heat, was like an insatiable craving. She couldn't get enough no matter how many times she plunged into it.

The left half had been pried open, leaving most of the bones broken and scattered around the room. Small intestines had been felt up and fished out first and were left lying to the side. Not much of what she was currently touching moved since it was being held firmly to the spine--just like any creature-- but she could feel around some of it to what laid behind. Most of it she already knew, but there was something she wanted to touch with her own hands just once.

She wanted to touch the aorta. Actually, she wanted to kill someone by grabbing it in a fist and watch how their body reacts. Would it be something like bleeding out? Or would the blood spill from their pores? Whatever happened, all of her victims had died before she could find out. Either from the pain or from the spine breaking too early.

She wished quietly that this tepid and comforting warmth came in something other than red, maybe blue, or pink. Something to make it a little more appealing to the eye. She also wished the warmth didn't fade so quickly. The goosebumps on her arms told her it was time to clean the blood from herself. Once a body cooled it could no longer comfort her; It was a waste to spend any more time on him. She would have to leave aorta groping for another day.

She reached to her side and picked up a towel she'd prepared in advance and stood from her straddling position over the dead man. While cleaning herself off she walked towards the three men behind her. They were all beefy, cruel looking men. Each of them had at least a knife on them, if not a gun, and obviously didn't do business in the nice parts of town.

She wasn't intimidated by any of them. Especially seeing how unsettled they were. Covered in sweat, they tried their best to look straight ahead, not focus on anything. They tried not to look at the mess she'd made of the man--he was now a corpse, they reminded themselves--lest they pass out.