Minted air gushes from her kissable mouth as she uttered words. Flashed her fringy nails overdone with silver streaks on a rather strange maroonish enamour, as she took small sips of gleaming red wine on her luscious lips. Her overflown gown swept like a musical strip over red and white chequered mosaic in sinister whispers unheard to anyone..even to her. Crimson trails …otherwise not obvious if for the whitish squares touching red tiles, now merged with titbit sheds of bloodied flesh…marked her way. Constant glance of a distant young man caught a delicate limp on her calculated catwalks, as something eclipsed her in increments of a burn from her thigh’s mashed up succulence, a fully clogged throat of lump-sum meaty hairballs piercing her tender swan neck inner with needled nail bits. As the clock struck twelve, she needs a voracious sleep, for in that she had long been eating….herself.
#2 The Last Hope
Tactical sabotage display as if a page torn from Arthasastra…
He fights them now, this time not against Alexander the Great though!
An icy stare over his shuddering alien prey, visible only with blinding green crystalline bulbous eyeballs of flocculous poison liquids spewing in each vision, ends just in minutes.A ballistic throw of his activated nictitating membrane bombers filled with choking vaporous mists dictates his win, curbs their rays from spiky tentacles with electrified dendrites emitting chromosome-eating ions..
Last minute trick to save left out traces of (malformed) humans has worked out well.
Secret Summit at some unidentified space ship floating with the only survivors cracked his gene sequence to bring him to life again.
And, he does all the rest!
Pulls his sikha over booming mountain chest, sits cool over green bloody mound of toppled pot-heads. Cloned C, need to stay for some time now in earthly vigil..