Her flesh is warm to the touch. She tastes sweet. The fire crackles and roars in time with my racing heart. We are alone in this cabin: if I make her scream, nobody will hear her. I chuckle to myself.

This isolation is perfect! I can do whatever I want with her. She’s lying breathless on the sheets, her clothes strewn about the wood floor. Her eyes are wide and her hair is fanned out on the pillow.

I lured her out here with intentions that I won’t describe for you sensitive readers. I worked up a sweat executing my plans. There was plenty of wine and plenty of candles.

Their shadows dance on the walls, creating monsters to battle with those formed by the looming pine trees outside. They wrestled as we did. Now that she and I are still, they seem to be encroaching on our sanctum.

As the flames die out, her breathing slows. I watch her sleep. I don’t even blink. The bruises on her neck are beginning to bloom, and the scratches on my back sting from the cool breeze sneaking in through a cracked window.

I breathe in her scent. Inhale. Exhale. I cover her body with the blood red blanket. Good night, my love. Have pleasant dreams.