The boy’s bloody body was beautiful, covered in leaves of gold and green and red. His eyelids fluttered lazily, leaving the impression of a broken slumber. The blood glinted slightly in the sunlight, like a softly flowing river. The breeze blew, dark branches swaying like a shelter above the boy, shielding him from the sun’s cruel onslaught.

A pale hand ran down his cheek, marinating itself in the cooling blood. Pink, dry lips moves as if to open, struggling to talk. A slender finger stopped these feeble efforts. The boy’s eyes opened, filled with blood swimming around blue irises.

“So beautiful,” his murderer’s voice breathed, heavy with exhaustion and thick with lust. His sweat-dampened hair fell across his shoulders as he leaned forward, watching the boy’s labored breathing.

Blue eyes stared up at him blankly, the boy’s eyes forgetting to blink. His overly taxed heart thumped against his ribs, sending a sharp pain from where several of the bones were shattered. His vision swam, obstructing his view of the man leaning over him.

“So beautiful,” his murderer repeated breathlessly. He slowly crouched, playing his bloody fingers over the boy’s ruined shirt, toying with the pearlized buttons sensually.

“Mine,” he growled possessively, popping each button carefully as he pulled the shirt apart. The boy’s soft, wheezing breaths came shakily, his eyes rolling slowly toward the man as he felt his shirt removed.

The man’s blood-slicked fingers glided down the boy’s abdomen, leaving a trail of blood in his wake. The boy’s body shuddered. Those nimble fingers unbuttoned his pants, caressing the fly of the zipper. Droplets of sweat fell from the man’s hair and on to the bruised flesh beneath. Carefully he leaned over, darting his tongue out and licking the droplets away.

The boy tried to speak, but only blood came from his parted lips. His chest shuddered again, spilling more of the blood past his throat and down his battered neck.

The man gently tugged the zipper open, pulling the fabric down the battered body. Gentle fingertips caressed the parched lips, soon replaced by a hesitant mouth. The man’s palm moved down the chest, eliciting a hiss of pain.

The man’s tongue ran across his own lips, tasting the metallic blood combined with spittle. His hand moved past the boy’s chest until it rested nestled in the dark pubic hairs. Gazing upon the boy’s helpless, bloodied features, he slid his hand over the flaccid penis. Removing the hand, he ran his tongue over the bloodies member.

The boy’s murderer lapped at the blood greedily, his hand straying past his own waistband. Caressing himself to completion, the man raked his fingernails across the boy’s sternum, smiling softly as his breath hitched, then stopped.