She loves me She loves me not
She loves me She loves me not horror stories
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noirloto
noirloto Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   7 months ago
It’s a love story...or is it?

She loves me She loves me not

There she was.

She was sitting on the couch, eyes glazed, her head rolled back. Her silver dyed hair was strewn haphazardly across the leather cushions and her jacket lay crumpled on the floor.

The news droned lazily in the background and her boyfriend chuckled quietly as he crossed the room to wake her.

As he reached down to rub her arm he glanced for a second into her half opened eyes. Horrified, he fell back in a violent surprise.

"Babe?" Her voice sounded groggy and she rubbed her eyes as she sat up. From here he could see no trace of what he thought he had seen. He frowned for a moment, and dusted his hands to stand up.

As she peeked cutely through her matted hair at him, he smiled.

She grumbled as she started to get up. He watched her for a moment before he scooped her up into his arms and gently carried her to their bedroom.

A call from his family lawyer was quickly ignored and he closed the curtains as she dressed for bed.

They laid quietly in the dark, he could hear the soft sound of her breath as she fell back asleep.

Suddenly she sat straight up and as she turned to him he could see the bed was soaked with black blood.

Blood rushed to his ears and his heart started pounding as her skin began to to rot and wither. Her hair tendriled out in a tangled mat of molded locks.

Her eyes squirmed and tiny pincers pricked through her jellied orbits. Centipedes snaked from her eyes like tears and he was tempted for a maddening moment to laugh and never stop.

Her limbs cracked and twisted and with terrifying speed she crawled over his body and wrapped her arms around him in a crushing embrace.

"Babe?" Her voice sounded the same as before. He cracked open one eye open peering through slit eyes. She was laying across from him, her face lined with worry.

He smiled weakly and reached out to pull her close. While he stared into the shadows of the room he pushed the bad thoughts away.

He woke up to screaming. She was in front of him, pulled by an invisible force like a puppet on strings. Her cries rang in his ears down to his bones and on the way up they lodged in his throat.

Choking, he felt an invisible rope tied tightly in an impossible knot and his sweet swung comically as he was lifted from the ground.

As he gasped he tore at the rope and crying he realized though the pain was increasing he was still alive. Through his pain he saw every moment of her murder. Of her pain and her fear.

He felt his own rope as he swung at its end. He remembered what he saw in her eyes.

He thought back to that moment, where truly it all started. They fell heavily on the floor and he looked into her half closed eyes.

She twitched violently and opened her eyes completely. Silently she walked to the living room.

He felt the need to step outside, through that familiar glass door, and watched her through the window. She was on the phone laughing and talking.

For a moment she frowned and pointed at the clock speaking angrily into the phone. Not angrily, he thought, irritated.

He imagined the click of the phone as she hung up and threw it dramatically away from her. She fell down on the couch lazily, with a laugh she rolled her eyes and turned on the TV.

He watched her relax and fight to stay awake.

She was so beautiful, he thought wistfully. As his body jerked forward his screams were lost behind his locked lips.

Tears streamed down his face and he begged and pleaded silently to any god that would listen to stop this madness. His hands reached the knob. He walked silently through the door.

"Babe?" There she was.

She was sitting on the couch, eyes glazed, her head rolled back. Her silver dyed hair was strewn haphazardly across the leather cushions and her jacket lay crumpled on the floor.

The news droned lazily in the background and her boyfriend chuckled quietly as he crossed the room to wake her.

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