Trigger warning. Slight gore. Like, really slight.
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Motionless, she laid on the floor.
The curtain flapping from the wind that was blowing inside, the moonlight glittering down her slit open throat that had blood still sipping out of it, flowing down her neck and dissolving further into her white gown, an inky red stain down her waist line of her dress.
Some blood had dripped to the floor too, causing the red sticky liquid to stand out sharply against the grey tikes beneath.
Everything was quiet, like a honourable minute of silence for the dead.
Seconds passed and nothing changed.
Not the frozen smile on her face, nor the look of utmost satisfaction in those lifeless, opened dazed eyes.
A perfect departure.
Then...
A twitch of a pinky.
Abrupt halt.
