copyright 2019 by tcs1963

All Rights Reserved

'' Negroid DOE N'T mark ''

by tcs1963

Her pelt was pallid white, almost to the item of glowing. She was hitchhiking, with her thumb stuck out like a well-lit signpost. Her go out arm cradling a small bundle very gently but protectively.

I noticed her because her cutis contrasted against the dark night sky. Almost as if luring me to pull over, like preteen children trusting the molester in a dingy white piece of work van, holding a handful of candy.

I had never stopped to pick up hitchhikers before and as a matter of fact, I was always warned against it. But I literally could n't communicate this untested Lady by. Helping her seemed utterly paramount.

Her beauty called out to me like some variety of Delilah 's strain. Making my dying tactile sensation of fear push to the back of my encephalon, along with my logic.

Along with her Mexican onyx skin, this Whitney Moore Young Jr. ma'am dressed very uniquely. Like she had stepped off the front of your favorite Gothic or toughie rock record album cover.

The light breeze sweeping her tomentum across her face. The flowing raven black lock curling willy-nilly around her side. Making her flavor innocent but dangerous at the Same time.

Her tiny body was completely enveloped in a black leather duster type jacket crown, hanging down almost past her knee joint. Accenting the piddling black apparel underneath. It finished off her hard tone like she could be in some variety of motorcycle club.

The only office of her that was neither black nor albumen was her back talk, which were a deep profligate red. Scary dark and wet like a untamed animal that had just eaten a rarified composition of heart and soul.

This odd combination of frock, which would have looked affected on anyone else, had the paired event on her. So she was n't surprised that the first car that stopped held a man. An older Farmer dash man to be exact.

'' Where ya going ? '' the old man yelled gruffly through an exposed window.

'' Anywhere, '' she softly muttered. Pulling the bundle in her weapon tighter to her breast. `` Anywhere but here. ``

She walked up to the rusty special K hand truck doorway and paused, as though she was trying to decide whether to get in or not.

'' What are ya waiting for ? '' he said shoving the door unfold for her, `` Get in. ''

She smiled gratefully, her pointed teeth accidentally poking out between her lip. Then she slid into the wear leather seat.

'' So where are ya from ? '' he asked, looking down at her bare thighs with his eye sparkling hungrily.

The fair sex just gestured with her head teacher toward the timber and continued as if she were feeding the tyke in her weapon system. Suckling dissonance coming across the seat, spurring the old sodbuster 's imagination of youthful succulent breast.

'' Not very loquacious are you ? '' the unkempt old Fannie Merritt Farmer mumbled in a step that was almost unhearable to himself. But she caught every syllable.

She just glared at the farmer, hunger and anger were getting the better of her. Her eyes were pits of swarthiness sparking with choler, as her instinct kicked into overdrive.

'' So how come up you are wearing all black ? '' he asked. `` Did mortal die or something ? ''

She gave him an odd look, partly puzzled and partly surprised. Thinking to herself that he was quite snoopy for his age, and then wondering if he would scream in fear.

But before she could do his question, a piercing lament filled the air. It was coming from the bundle of material, clasped against her chest of drawers.

The inhuman shriek continued as the char began unraveling the material. One layer off, then another, and another, until finally, the shaver was naked.

There, beneath all of those layers and blankets, lay a scrawny babe boy, not a particularly beautiful child, but a baby all the same.

'' Ai n't ya going ta shut it up ? '' he yelled, just brassy enough that he could be heard over the baby 's wail.

'' He 's hungry, '' she stated abruptly.

The man looked at her expectantly, as though waiting for her to do something to quell the screaming babe.

She just sat there, her ghostly white knocker resting on his lips. She was looking right back at him with that piercing regard of hers.

With a sigh, the granger leaned over and wiggled his pudgy fingers in battlefront of the child 's grimace, trying to disport and gruntle the child.

For a few mo, it seemed to be working ; the little boy 's shit slowly quieted, and he began gazing hungrily at the old farmer 's bemire fingers.

The tiddler watched them go back and forth. Then slowly the child opened his jaw wide and slammed it shut on the large of the man 's fingers. Severing his thumb.

The man screamed, slamming on the bracken. Cradling his hand and staring at what remained of his thumb in shock.

Within seconds the infant boy began wailing again, spitting out the remnants of the finger he had been gnawing on.

'' Now look what you 've done ! '' The lady shouted angrily.

She shoved the finger back into the infant 's back talk and began moving his jaw up and down, forcing him to chew it, the whole sentence forgetful to the man 's endless screaming.

'' Do n't think I 've forgotten you, '' she said, turning to the man.

Her words were returned by his muteness and a smell of fearfulness and disarray. His screaming silenced and he fumbled with the lock chamber on his door.

Scrambling, he had almost gotten the door open up when the fair sex grabbed his arm. His blood sheeting across the windshield.

The charwoman 's posture surprising him, her steel-like handle was near impossible to soften. So his constant struggling to get some distance, only made him weaker.

She nonchalantly brushed away the hairsbreadth on his cervix and dug her canines into the smooth delicate flesh of his pharynx.

In seconds he stopped struggling, semi-conscious. His eyes wide as he realized his fate was sealed.

The adult female drank ravenously, almost greedily, until she finally had her fill. Her insatiable thirst sated for the meter being

She then pressed the child 's lips against one of the two punctures that were still oozing parentage droplets. The baby took two reluctant swallows and stopped his suckling.

She pressed the tyke against his bloody throat, but to her vexation, he would not suckle anymore.

Reluctantly bundling up the babe, she turned to the doorway preparing to head back into the wood.

On 2d sentiment, she turned back around to look at the man, who was just awakening from unconsciousness.

'' You wanted to know why I wear black ? '' The man groaned. A groan that the char took for agreement.

Moving towards the woods she quipped, `` Because nigrify does n't stain. ``

The End ...