Preteen, Teen, Piss, Shooting, No-Sex
The front doors of Clayton Junior High opened onto a warm, yet breezy, June afternoon; cool air escaped the building as a fourteen-year-old girl with jet-black hair to her lower-back stepped through. Ginny Osborne adjusted her glasses with her left hand while holding the door with the other. Her sisters – Christina and Louise, a thirteen-year-old and a twelve-year-old – came through. She walked them, a stack of books clutched in her arms and a green bag hanging from her shoulders, down the concrete steps as almost a hundred other students stormed out of the building behind them.
The younger two Osborne sisters quickly found themselves chatting about their many plans for an exciting summer break, while Ginny remained relatively quiet. As they reached the end of the sidewalk, Ginny briefly closed her eyes and took a deep whiff of the air. The girls crossed the street, and began the mile-long walk home.
“So, Gin,” Louise looked up, “you won’t be returning to junior high in September. Or ever again…”
“As a student, anyways, “ Ginny interrupted.
“Yeah. So, how does it feel?”
“Exciting, but a little terrifying and sad. I will be in high school now, but I’m a freshman again.”
“And I will be the senior sister at Clayton Junior High now,” Christina said while puffing out her chest and holding her chin high.
Louise stopped in front of an alleyway that cut between Jim's Pizza and Jane’s Daycare, and her sisters stopped seconds later.
“Wanna take our usual shortcut, or continue the long way around the block?” She looked from Christina to Ginny.
“Shortcut!”, “The alley!” the girls shouted simultaneously. A few microseconds they disappeared behind Jim’s Pizza.
Ten seconds later, Logan Richards, a classmate of Ginny’s who was more commonly referred to as Logan the Creep, leaned against the wall of the pizza joint and peered into the alleyway. He watched Ginny hand her stack of books to Christina before she climbed up a brick wall. She reached the top and Christina handed each book back one at a time, each of which she carefully dropped to the ground on the other side.
The thud of the last book rang out and Ginny grabbed Christina’s hand, while Louise stood patiently. Logan stepped into the alleyway and pulled his hands, each clutching a River LC9, and fired at the two younger girls. Shots rang out, followed by screams, as Christina slipped from her sister’s grip and, along with Louise, crumbled to the ground. Logan ceased firing after sixteen shots, and, rather than run on the other side of the wall to safety, Ginny jumped down and rushed to her sister’s bodies.
Logan approached to examine the carnage more closely. Louise was wheezing, and coughing up blood, with four wounds through her upper back and two in her ass. Christina died instantly, with one of the six bullets that struck her lodged in the back of her head. Ginny held her in her arms, sobbing, as Logan watched a dark wet spot grow in the crotch of her khakis.
“You should have said yes when I asked you to the dance back in December,” Logan said firmly as he stood over Ginny. She looked up, eyes and cheeks drenched with tears, and her chest expanding rapidly.
“Why? Why did you do this?”
“I told you.”
Ginny stood up and backed away as Logan moved forward, until her back was against the wall.
“Please go away! My sisters need a doctor. Please Logan!”
He grabbed Christina’s blouse and lifted her up and let her fall limply back to the ground.
“This one is beyond anything a doctor can fix, Gin.”
He dragged Louise to her feet by her pigtails; the preteen girl tried to no avail push his arms away, while Ginny screamed. “No! LEAVE HER ALONE!” Logan shoved one of the guns against the bottom of Louise’s chin. Blood splashed down her the front of her neck and shirt as her body went limp. Logan held her up by her pigtails for several seconds, until piss streamed down her legs and soaked her skirt, then let her corpse crumple to the ground.
“I don’t think any doctor can help her either.”
Ginny’s body was shaking, and both fists clutched so tightly that her fingernails were digging into her own flssh.
“Remove your shorts and panties.” Logan began towards Ginny with both guns aimed at her.
“Please don’t, Logan.” She cringed back against the wall as tightly as possible, with her eyes shut.
“I want your pussy, Ginny. It’s all I wanted since I first saw you. “
“No! Please! My first time is supposed to be with someone I love. With James Wheat. Please don’t!”
“Too bad. Your first time will either be with me, or you won’t ever have a first time.” He pressed a gun against the center of each of her breasts. “What will you choose?”
Ginny sniveled and shut her eyes. She took several deep breaths and Logan expected her to give in. She never had a chance, due to sirens blaring in the distance. Ginny’s eyes opened widely and a weak smile appeared on her face.
“Don’t think you’re in the clear, Gin. If I’m not getting your cunt…” Logan pressed one of the guns against the crotch of her shorts and pulled the trigger.
Ginny screamed as a fountain of blood poured from her crotch. She slid down against the wall with both hands cupping her ruined womanhood. Logan pulled two clips from his pockets and reloaded both guns. He aimed at her chest and fired fifteen bullets into her lumpy breasts until her screaming reduced to painful groaning.
He lifted her head up and looked into her dazed eyes, and blood-dripping mouth. “If you had agreed to let me make love to you, the cops would have arrived in time to save your life. Stupid girl.” He pointed the gun at the center of her forehead and ended her life with a bullet in her brain, just as three cop cars stopped in front of the alleyway.
Well, ths turned out to be longer than 500 words, but I doubt anyone will mind.
Loved it. More please
Double Barrel Death
Vito shoved two 12 gauge slug shells into the sawn off shotgun, and knocked on the door of Apartment 325. He waited, until he heard the sound of feet softly walking towards the door. Lucille Caligari, the 14 year old daughter of the Caligari mob boss opened the door.
Vito took a moment to check her over, her two perky breasts bouncing, the curves of her adolescent body visible under her PJ's. Her big brown eyes widened as she saw the shotgun, and she opened her mouth to scream. Vito shoved the shotgun into her open mouth and pulled both triggers. Her head disappeared in a cloud of gore. The rest of her body crumpled to the ground.
A wheezing sound came from the neck stump as the unfortunate teenager's final breath escaped her lungs.
Not a fan of shooting, but I still like your style
One by one, the young girls were herded into the field behind the farmhouse. In total, there were 5 of them. Little Sophie was 8, Monika was 13, Juna was 11, Anna was 9 and Mila was 15. Their ages combined did not even reach the age of the oldest of their captors.
5 shovels were dropped at their feet. The officer ordered the girls to dig. They reluctantly picked up the shovels and began digging. Their breath steamed in the cold winter air. The soil had yet to freeze completely, so the girls soon had a hole about a foot deep and 3 feet wide. The officer ordered them to stop, and they did.
The soldiers looked on in interest as the officer ordered the girls to strip naked. Mila uttered a curse at the officer, who was bemused.
He unholstered his handgun and squeezed off a shot at the ground directly in front of the girls. They screamed and held each other tightly. The officer repeated his order, a hint of steel in his voice.
They began to strip, shucking off their overcoats, slipping out of dresses, and finally stepping out of their underwear. Soon, all 5 were naked, huddled together as the icy wind bit their skin. Mila gathered the younger girls around her, and whispered prayers.
The officer motioned at the soldiers, who lazily got off their rears and shuffled into a line. They switched off the safeties on their rifles and pointed them towards the girls. Sophie looked up at Mila, fear filling her soft, round face. Mila squeezed her hand, trying her best to smile. Anna began to sob, earning a shaky rebuke from Monika. Monika herself was breathing rapidly, her heart pounding in terror. Juna just stared at the soldiers, her large blue eyes wide like the eyes of a deer caught in the middle of a road.
The officer yelled a command, and the soldiers opened fire. The serene quiet of the farm was shattered as the rifles unloaded round after round into soft little bodies.
The girls jerked and twirled as rifle calibre bullets tore through them. Monika died instantly when a round blasted through her forehead, spraying blood and brain matter into the fresh snow. Juna had three bullets punch through her stomach, tearing it open. Her intestines sagged out, steaming. She collapsed to her knees, where another bullet caught her in her lower jaw, shattering it. The little girl crumpled, blood pouring out of her wounds.
Anna had 5 rounds punch through her neck, almost severing her head from her body. The young girl's head swung down, only barely connected to her neck via a string of muscle and sinew. She collapsed into the hole, blood and vomit spraying from her exposed neck hole.
Sophie didn't fare much better, as 2 rounds blasted through her flat chest. One passed through her left lung, collapsing it, before tumbling and shattering her spinal column. The other bullet punched through her right breast, collapsing her other lung, before passing out her back. She dropped, paralyzed and coughing up blood.
However, through some cosmic stroke of luck, Mila only had a bullet enter her hip. The teenager fell back into the hole, clutching her wound. The other girls dropped on top of her, and Mila grunted in agony. She laid still as the soldiers came over to inspect the corpses. Mila heard Sophie gurgling, and the soldiers laughed. There was a sickening CRUNCH, and Sophie ceased gurgling. More laughter. The sound of a truck engine started, then slowly drifted away.
Mila laid there for an hour, underneath the broken and shattered remains of her friends. She felt dead inside, and wished for God to take her away.
Soon, she heard another voice yelling. Her own language. She stirred. The bodies were rolled off of her, and the face of a young boy loomed over her. Another, older boy knelt down and picked her up. She uttered thanks, and fainted.
“Did you like marching band practice” the adorable little eleven-year-old asked in her adorable red marching leader’s outfit. Her cute pink hair up behind her in a high ponytail, the red cap adorning her head like cherry on top of a delicious parfait. Looking down at her, her preteen breasts just barely poked the front of the uniform outwards underneath the red fabric, gold trim, and shiny buttons. All condensed down to a pleated short skirt, just ripe for lifting and exposing her cute red panties.
“I loved it.” a man said smiling and gently reaching down to cuff the side of her cheek, “you were the image of a general commanding her troops. Thanks for staying after everyone left.” he continued and reached over to a bag he was carrying.
“What’s in there?” she asked, her large curious blue eyes tracing over to the brown duffle bag.
“A general isn’t complete with her weapon,” he said and brought out a rifle, complete with bayonet. The girl gave a slightly worried expression and stepped back, but he held out a consoling hand. “Relax, it isn’t loaded or anything.” he said, showing her the chamber.
“I don’t bring ammo around or anything, these are all for reenactments. Even the bayonet is dull so I can’t cut anything,” he lied.
The girl stepped closer and swooned at being able to touch the gun. He even let her hold it, letting her feel the weight of the wood, and metal. She grinned cutely and barked out some of her marching commands while holding the gun at her side.
After a few minutes the man chuckled and slowly took the rifle away.
“Though giving you the rifle is only part of the reason I’m here.” he said kneeling down to her. The girl suddenly turned a gentle shade of red and nodded and leaned into kiss him.
“I missed you.” she said gentle opening the front of her uniform. Underneath, because her young breasts were small enough, she wore no bra - the petite C size breasts popped out. The man slowly leaned in and kissed her nipples, eliciting a gentle giggle from the girl.
His hand slowly wrapped around her waist, down, and up her skirt to stroke her preteen butt cheek, and gently stroke her fragile slit. She shuddered as his middle finger slowly caressed her panties and she immediately dropped them and kicked them to the side.
“Please, I’ve been waiting for so long. Take my first time.” she pleaded with her large blue eyes. The man smiled and nodded but also gave a sigh in his head. Unfortunately that’s not why he was here. He was here to teach her father a lesson. That his employer was not to be betrayed.
“Face the wall and put your hands against it, I’m going to take you from behind - this will give you leverage to brace with.” he said. The girl obediently bent to the wall, her adorable adolescent butt poking up, her virgin sleek pussy coming into view.
The man gently moved forward and kissed her slit, and slowly moved his tongue up it. The girl squealed spreading her legs and clenched her fists against the wall, her little breasts bouncing gently forwards as her back arched.
He licked again paying special attention to insert his tongue into her small vaginal canal, tasting her, savoring her. Her little vagina was so small, petite, and fresh - he would be the first, only, and last man to experience it.
“Please put it in me!” she whispered.
“Okay.” the man said and in a very practiced and purposeful movement, pulled the rifle from the side and slid the sharp bayonet into the girl’s love canal, the swift movement left no time for the girl to even react as the blade easily sliced through her hymen and pierced her womb.
Her body arched, she flew up to the balls of her feet, tears flew from her eyes, and from her lips came an ear splitting scream as her perforated vagina let loose of a torrent of blood to the floor. Her bladder instantly released and a stream of urine quickly mixed into juices flowing onto the floor.
With the discipline of a butcher the man supported the girl by the stomach, and fucked the eleven-year-old with the rifle, the blade pistoning and out of her desecrated vagina. With each motion more blood and piss spilled out of her until she turned pale, her voice weakened and she crumpled to the floor.
The man unzipped his pants, turned to the side, and a stream of semen on to the floor. He didn’t want to dirty the body, he wanted the cops to find her in pristine condition except that her womanhood had been violated to the point of her death. He pulled out a small note and left it on her, not caring about fingerprints, or DNA samples. He wasn’t in any database, or watch list, he was a ghost assassin - the most brutal of them all - the Kunt Killer.
“You’re beautiful” the man said to the little girl who was still barely conscious on the floor. Her young tears still pouring from her eyes, her soft little voice trying to squeak out cries for help. She just helplessly laid there in a growing pool of her own blood streaming from her private little girl parts. He kissed her on the cheek and left the girl to expire.
BONUS: Picture enhanced storyhttps://i.pximg.net/img-master/img/2018/08/30/03/32/56/70451010_p0_master1200.jpg
Oops, forgot my title and tags!
Anyone know if there's a way to delete a post if you forgot to give it a password?
The girl trembled as Michael wrapped the blindfold around her eyes. "Shhhhhhh Rachel, it'll all be over soon", Michael whispered in her ear. He placed the silenced handgun against the back of her head and pulled the trigger. Her head jerked forward as the gun recoiled. A damp spot appeared on the crotch of her bear print pajama bottoms.
The Rape of Denever
The Imperial Army had made an ultimatum to the besieged Republican city of Denever. Surrender, or be slaughtered to the last woman and child when they finally broke through. Now, that terrible day had come. The Army had finally penetrated the walls of the city and destroyed the garrison of Republican soldiers.
Sarah, the young daughter of the mayor, had turned 10 last week.
Her father had celebrated her birthday with a cake, despite the food shortages. Now her father was one of the many unfortunates impaled on stakes outside the walls of the ruined city.
Despite her best attempts at hiding in the mayoral mansion, the enemy had found her and dragged her all the way to the central courtyard. Soon she was in a vast line of weary citizens shuffling forward to their deaths.
Sarah grimaced as the young peasant girl in front of her was forced to her knees. The girl lowered her head onto a chipped and bloodstained chopping block. The two soldiers holding the child down averted their faces as the executioner swung his axe down. Sarah clenched her teeth in anger as the wet meaty sound of steel parting flesh and bone echoed through the bloodstained courtyard. She felt helpless fury as the little girl's headless corpse keeled over on its side, blood spraying from the neck. The soldiers dragged the body over to the mass burial pit, leaving a trail of blood.
Sarah felt strong hands firmly grip her restrained arms. She was pushed down to her knees. Her heart beat rapidly as she slowly lowered her head onto the block. She shuddered as her chin touched sticky, warm congealing blood on the worn wooden surface. Looking down, she saw a basket almost full to the brim with decapitated heads. The face of the previous girl stared back at Sarah, freckled cheeks wet with tears and blood.
Sarah closed her eyes and silently prayed for a quick death. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. The executioner swung down once more.
Sarah opened her eyes and saw the world turn upside down.
The little girl felt like she was falling, then a hard impact jarred her consciousness. The world turned on its side. She felt something hot and wet on her cheek. It was then that she saw her quivering body fall on its side, neck stump squirting blood. She opened her mouth to scream, only to discover that she couldn't make a sound.
The world rapidly darkened and Sarah closed her eyes, hoping to wake up from the nightmare.
She never opened her eyes again.
Aki's target was a 17 year old highschool girl called Misa Miyatake.
Unbenownst to Misa's parents, the girl was selling her body to dirty old businessmen. Unfortunately, Misa was dumb enough to try blackmailing one of her clients for more cash. That decision would lead to an untimely end for Misa.
Aki followed Misa as the girl walked home from school. The girl was unmissable, being 6'4" and with a body built like a JAV star.
Her long, flowing hair was dyed dirty blonde, and her school uniform was two sizes too short, and cut down to almost nothing in order to show off as much of her tanned flesh as possible.
Her large breasts bounced in rythm to her steps. Misa hummed along to a song, oblivious to her impending death.
The schoolgirl turned down a dark alleyway, a shortcut that usually cut 10 minutes off her commute. Aki followed, slowly unsheathing a katana.
Aki slowly crept up to the slutty teen. Misa stopped as one of her shoelaces came undone. She got down on one knee and began to tie it together. Aki sensed her opportunity, and leapt into action. Her sword came slicing down, neatly separating Misa's head from her shoulders. The busty schoolgirl's body fell back, twin jets of blood spraying from her neck, while her head flew forward.
Aki walked over and grabbed Misa's head by her hair. The teen's face was frozen in an expression of shock, her soft lips parted in an O. The assassin snapped a selfie with her target's head, then casually threw the grisly object into a trash can. Misa's headless corpse was sprawled out on the dirty concrete, still shivering. Her massive tits had escaped the skimpy shirt containing them. Aki stepped on one as she reached down and sliced open the dead teen's flat stomach. She reached in and tore out Misa's heart.
Proof for her employer, and another heart for her collection. The assassin smiled happily.
This thread will contain stories involving preteen girls being killed; mostly outright murder, although there will be a few consent and suicide stories.
My first story is response to a prompt /RP/.
Patricia Viktorinova believes she is on her way home from violin lessons. She is only nine, with shoulder-length blonde hair and blue eyes, and President Alexander Viktorinov's only daughter and youngest child. Patricia is also her daddy's favorite, as well as the favorite of the staff he hired to look after his children; she is well-behaved and polite, unlike her brothers. Everyone tends to spoil the little lady, and because of that she has developed an unusually high level of trust towards them. When her chauffeur, even though her father only hired him two months ago, turns down the wrong street Patricia she is too busy devouring the unusually large tin of chocolate chip cookies and tall cup of chocolate milk Mister Levchenko brought her, while watching a cartoon on her smartphone, to notice; the idea that she could be in danger while in the presence of a man her loving father entrusted with her safe transportation never crosses her mind. She falls asleep soon, with the half-eaten tin of cookies and phone sliding to the floor, without serious thought as to why she is not at home on time.
For almost two hours Viktor Levchenko drives, leaving the city and into a more rural part of the country. A fat lump seems to form in the back of his throat and swells up several times as his destination grows closer. Viktor wonders how such a wonderful and beautiful child could have been created by a man such as the President. If she could be given to a loving family, perhaps in another country… but she is too old for that to work. And the mission he was given by the Peace Restoration Force is not to give the child of a dictator a better home, but to make that dictator take notice of their pleas. He needs to know that he and his family are not safe from the People's wrath. His thoughts turn to his own daughter, who starved to death as the President wasted unnecessary resources on this hopeless war with the European Federation.
With that last thought on his mind, Viktor pulls off the road and drives several kilometers before stopping in front a farmhouse. Six figures in military uniforms emerge from the side of the farmhouse, carrying automatic weapons; they are also strapped with several other guns and belts of ammunition. Three of them open the back door of the car and grab Patricia's arms. The child opens her eyes, dazed, as she is dragged from the vehicle. Her eyes quickly widen as her legs and torso hit the ground and they drag her along the ground.
"What are you doing? Let me stand up! My dress!" The girl screamed, as her formerly-white dress was quickly covered in dirt and grass.
Her captors ignore her pleas. Patricia tries to pull herself to her feet, but they move too swiftly for her to get a decent footing. Getting to her feet becomes a secondary concern when her driver's car pulls away. Her eyes widen as the outline of the vehicle grows smaller.
"Mister Levchenko? Mister Levchenko!! Where are you going?" Patricia screams. She tries to pull away and Chase after her driver's car, but she lacks the strength to even slow the two men pulling her away. Patricia can only scream as Mister Levchenko's car disappears over a hill and is never seen by her again.
Her captors lifts her tiny body until her feet are dangling centimeters in the air, and slam her the side of the farmhouse. They force her arms into a set of harnesses nailed to the wall. Another guy locks her in while the two hold her in position. They let go and Patricia tests the strength of the harnesses with another attempt to pull away; unfortunately for Patricia, the harness is bolted tightly to the wall and the latch will not budge.
"Let me go! My father will not be mad if he finds out how you're treating me! Now let me go!"
None of her captors pay heed to her words, and seemingly act as if she said nothing. One of the men who strapped her to the wall disappears into the house and comes back minutes later with a camcorder and tripod. He sets both up three meters in front of her and turns on the camera. Afterwards he draws a knife from his pocket and approaches her. She closes her eyes and looks away, screaming "don't hurt me!" Instead of stabbing her, he grabs the straps of her dress and cuts each one. She opens her eyes when the fabric falls to the ground and her bare skin is exposed to the crisp autumn air. She lets out a sharp cry when the knife nips her smooth prepubescent mound, as the man cuts the fabric of her panties and leaves her completely nude.
"My dress is ruined!" Tears roll down her cheeks as the man picks up the remains of her clothes. "I'm so cold! Please give me my clothes. It's so cold!"
"You won't have to worry about the cold for very long. Most little girls in this country have to sleep in the cold, so consider yourself lucky."
He walks away and Patricia looks on through teary eyes. The man throws the clothes on the ground and turns to face her; standing next to the camera. Five other men stand in a line beside him, and all six raise their guns. Patricia's mind registers the fact that they are pointing guns at her microseconds before the first trigger is pulled. The sound of rapid gunfire echoes over the countryside. Patricia screams and writhes as each impact tears through her nubile flesh, sending up spatters of blood and tissue; all of her internal organs seem to burn. Her screams die after ten seconds with her brain shutting down from the overwhelming agony, but her body continues to writhe with each impact. The gunfire dies down moments later and her body goes limp, save for random spasms which continue for a few more minutes. Patricia's head limply hangs down; blank eyes peering at the dirt, and her mouth ajar with her tongue uselessly sticking out and blood dripping from the end. Blood and pieces of organs drip out of the countless holes which riddle her body, from her chest down to her feet.
One of the men walks around to the front of the camcorder and looks into the lens.
"Consider this the punishment for starving your people just so you can wage a pointless war that nobody gives a shit about. If you do not stop we will kill you and your entire family."
He shuts off the camcorder. The video is sent overseas where it will make its' way onto various websites; both shady, darkweb, sites, as well as mainstream sites. The President will see it very quickly. Patricia's body is left on the side of the house as the group moves their operations, and eventually devoured by wild animals. The President, however, will focus a great deal of resources towards punishing everyone responsible and their families.
Balisiphos the Demon, Slaughterer of the Young woke up. He yawned, and stretched his transparent tentacles lazily, then looked around. He appeared to be in an attic, surrounded by candles and a pentagram drawn in chalk on the floorboards.
A human girl was cowering in front of him, dressed in a rather cheap looking gown, holding a ratty looking book.
"B-Balisiphos the Demon?" the girl quavered.
The demon looked down at her. She seemed to be about 12 years old, with long, straight black hair, a smattering of freckles on her pale face, and a pair of glasses over her emerald eyes. Cute, in a goth-y sort of way, the demon thought.
"A-as the person w-who summoned you, I command you t-to do my bidding!" the girl stammered.
Balisiphos uncurled one tentacle, then quickly wrapped it around the girl and lifted her up.
She squealed as the demon's tentacles efficiently stripped away her clothes. She blushed and covered her budding breasts. "Let me down, please!" she screamed. "I've not had a bite to eat in well over 800 years", the demon rumbled.
Without a second wasted, Balisiphos opened his maw and bit down on the girls head. The girl struggled, her arms and legs flailing in panic. With a little twist of his jaws, he neatly severed the little morsel from the body and swallowed it neat. The body slackened, its muscles relaxing in death.
He raised the headless corpse and let the fountain of blood spurting from her neck stump pour into his mouth. Balisiphos waited until the blood was drained from her body before dropping it into his open mouth. He chewed the corpse, savoring the taste and sensations of warm flesh, blood and bones crunching. He belched, and wiped his mouth with the hapless girls gown. A nice little appetizer, but that little girl didn't really sate his hunger. He shifted, wrapped his tentacles around a window, and launched himself outside.
Opportunistic Part 2
17 year old Marina Clifford sprinted down the back alley, panting. She glanced at her watch and cursed. "Late for class again, Mrs. Hillier is gonna kill me!" she groaned as she vaulted over a fence. Her feet smacked into a slightly raised brick and she tripped. The girl gasped as she fell face first into something large.
Balisiphos had been resting in the shade of a back alley when his second meal of the day ran head first into him. He swiftly grabbed hold of the girl and examined her. She was wearing a summer school uniform, white short sleeve blouse and a dark blue skirt, fashionably rolled up above the knees. Her tanned brown skin, running shoes, and firm, fit body pointed to an active lifestyle. Balisiphos grunted in disappointment. The flesh of sports girls and tomboys were a bit too tough for his tastes. However, his hunger overruled his picky tastes.
Marina looked up at the…thing holding her. Her eyes were as wide as saucers. She felt the thing's tentacles slip around her torso. It tore open her blouse and skirt, revealing large G-cup breasts held down by a grey sports bra, black bike shorts, and a toned stomach.
"What the fuck do you want from me?" she asked, her tone defiant despite the fear beating within her chest. The monster's multiple eyes blinked. "I'm going to eat you", it stated simply.
Two of the tentacles sprouted razor sharp claws.
Before Marina could say anything, the clawed tentacles sliced an incision straight down from the center of her chest to the bottom of her pelvis. Two more tentacles stretched open the skin flaps from the cut, exposing her ribcage and internal organs to the mid-morning sun. The girl squealed, more in shock than in pain as Balisiphos began to scoop up her intestines and slurped them into its mouth, like noodles.
Marina vomited up her breakfast as the demon ripped out her womb and threw it into its mouth.
The schoolgirl could only moan unintelligibly as the beasts tentacles wrapped around her insides and slithered up her windpipe. She closed her eyes and begged to God to wake her up from this nightmare. Marina felt something tug at her heart, then a ripping pain shot through her chest cavity.
Balisiphos watched disinterestedly as the girl's eyes rolled up and her final breath rattled out between her blood flecked lips. The demon popped the beating heart into its mouth and popped it open in between its teeth, letting fresh virgin blood run down his tongue. With two young souls taken, the demon felt satisfied. Good work for a morning, he thought. Balisiphos scuttled away, leaving Marina's corpse out in plain view. He needed to nap and digest his meal.