Demi Imagines 3.0

Fire

A/N 

While I can't quite get back into writing again, I did write this a while back; it's weird and violent. Have fun.

The smell of burning flesh hits her nose. She breathes in, her nose scrunching up distastefully. This is the part she hates the most about all this. She never wanted it to come this far. It just...happened.

She fell in love. She didn't wish for this to happen.

But it did.

Three months earlier...

"If you do this, I'll give you a kiss."

She was so beautiful that she didn't care. She just wanted her attention; she was starting to get it, and it was addicting.

"I've never broken the law before," she responded.

"First time for everything, yeah?" was the response.

She looked into her eyes and couldn't see any emotion. But that didn't really matter to her; she just wanted...her.

"Yeah," she finally said.

It was the start of a snowball. Not that she knew it.

She walked into the store and looked to the cashier. He wasn't watching. She ducked behind an aisle and quickly grabbed the thing closest to her: a candy bar. She stuffed it in her pocket swiftly before promptly walking back out of the store. Nothing happened. No alarms, no yelling, no nothing.

"Show me," was the immediate comment.

She pulled the candy bar out of her pocket and showed her. The grin on her face was malicious.

"Good job," she told her, her tone condescending.

"Where's my kiss?" she asked, looking hopeful.

She rolled her eyes in response before leaning in and kissing her lightly. To one, it was everything. To the other, it was nothing.

She looks toward the woman she loves. She is her everything. It's for her that she does this. Her latest victim is unconscious, blood dripping from his near-lifeless form. His skin is torn, burned, and nearly melting off. It's incredible that he isn't dead yet. Just barely alive but clinging to it.

"He's too quiet. I'm bored," she says, making her flinch.

"He's unconscious," she responds matter-of-factly.

"I can see that. Do something about it. Cut off his foot or something."

"I don't think he could handle it," she says, covering her nose as she nears him. The smell of blood and burning human is excruciating. She can't fathom how she manages to stay near all this gore without throwing up.

"Then go find another one that's more alive."

"I need to stay on the down low. The police are too close for comfort," she replies, looking to the various torture devices she has lined up. She never thought her life would be like this. Sometimes she wonders why she does it. But then she looks into her eyes and falls deeper in love with her. That's exactly why she does it. For her.

Everything for her.

"Cut off his foot."

"Is that what you want me to do?"

"Or just punch him," she replies with a shrug. She leans back in her chair, folding her legs under her.

In that moment, a small groan leaves the man's lips. His head lolls to the side, and the two women look to him.

"Never mind. Just burn him more," she says.

"Please." His voice is barely audible.

"You heard him," she says. "He wants to be burned."

She thinks for a moment. There's a part of her that doesn't want this life any more. But she looks to her. Their eyes lock. They smile slightly at each other.

She grabs the blowtorch.

A/N

I have no clue what this was and I'm sorry 

I also now realize this could be one person being crazy or whatever; I was on some weird shit when I wrote this