`` Blackness Does N'T Stain ''


Black, Fantasy, Gothic
Copyright 2019 by tcs1963

All right hand Reserved

'' Black Department of Energy N'T brand ''

by tcs1963

Her skin was pale white, almost to the head of radiance. She was hitchhiking, with her thumb stuck out like a well-lit signpost. Her left arm cradling a small bundle very gently but protectively.

I noticed her because her tegument contrasted against the dark dark sky. Almost as if luring me to pull over, like preteen nestling trusting the molester in a dirty white body of work van, holding a handful of candy.

I had never stopped to plunk up hitchhikers before and as a issue of fact, I was always warned against it. But I literally could n't pass this young lady by. Helping her seemed perfectly paramount.

Her lulu called out to me like some sort of Siren 's Song. Making my anxious look of fearfulness push to the back of my brainpower, along with my logic.

Along with her alabaster peel, this young lady dressed very uniquely. Like she had stepped off the front of your favorite gothic or toughie rock and roll record album cover.

The light breeze sweeping her hair across her face. The flowing raven black locks curling willy-nilly around her face. Making her look ingenuous but dangerous at the same time.

Her flyspeck trunk was completely enveloped in a black leather duster type crownwork, hanging down almost past her knees. Accenting the little black dress underneath. It finished off her tough looking at like she could be in some kind of motorcycle lodge.

The only part of her that was neither black nor white was her rim, which were a deep parentage red. Scary dark and wet like a uncivilised beast that had just eaten a rarefied small-arm of meat.

This odd compounding of wearing apparel, which would have looked abnormal on anyone else, had the opposite effect on her. So she was n't surprised that the kickoff car that stopped held a man. An honest-to-goodness farmer style man to be exact.

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

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

She walked up to the rusty green 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 exposed for her, `` Get in. ''

She smiled gratefully, her pointed dentition accidentally poking out between her back talk. Then she slid into the jade leather seat.

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

The adult female just gestured with her top dog toward the forest and continued as if she were feeding the child in her weaponry. Suckling noises coming across the seat, spurring the old farmer 's imagination of young succulent breast.

'' Not very expansive are you ? '' the unkempt old farmer mumbled in a tone that was almost inaudible 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 wrath, as her instinct kicked into overdrive.

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

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

But before she could respond his question, a piercing wail filled the air. It was coming from the bundle of cloth, clasped against her thorax.

The inhuman scream continued as the woman began unraveling the fabric. One layer off, then another, and another, until finally, the minor was naked.

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

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

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

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

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

With a suspiration, the farmer leaned over and wiggled his pudgy fingers in movement of the child 's boldness, trying to amuse and pacify the child.

For a few indorsement, it seemed to be working ; the trivial boy 's whoreson slowly quieted, and he began gazing hungrily at the old farmer 's dirty finger's breadth.

The child watched them go back and Forth River. Then slowly the baby opened his jaw wide and slammed it shut on the bombastic of the man 's fingers. Severing his thumb.

The man screamed, slamming on the brakes. 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 noblewoman shouted angrily.

She shoved the finger back into the baby 's mouth and began moving his jaw up and down, forcing him to chew it, the whole clip oblivious to the man 's endless screaming.

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

Her news were returned by his secretiveness and a look of awe and mix-up. His shriek silenced and he fumbled with the whorl on his door.

Scrambling, he had almost gotten the door candid when the woman grabbed his arm. His blood line sheeting across the windshield.

The cleaning lady 's strength surprising him, her steel-like grip was near impossible to smash. So his incessant struggling to get some distance, only made him weaker.

She nonchalantly brushed away the haircloth on his neck opening and dug her canines into the suave touchy form of his throat.

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

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

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

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

Reluctantly bundling up the baby, she turned to the door preparing to head back into the Sir Henry Wood.

On second thought, she turned back around to look at the man, who was just awakening from unconsciousness.

'' You wanted to have sex why I wear bleak ? '' The man groaned. A groan that the adult female took for agreement.

Moving towards the Grant Wood she quipped, `` Because black does n't maculate. ``

The End ...
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