Her neck craned, head bowed as her body swayed lifelessly - just inches above the floor. Metallic hooks pierced through a layer or two of skin; nearly transparent wires attached the hooks to the ceiling, causing her to be suspended in air. Dirty blonde tresses obscured full observation of visage, though a complete view was not needed to realize the woman was in obvious pain. A sob wracked her body, causing the wires to bounce up and down; she stifled a scream, biting her lip. A stream of blood originated from the smitten organ, trickling downwards before plummeting to the tiled floor.

He watched from the shadows, a knowing smile curving his own lips upwards. In a few short steps, he was directly in front of her, staring lovingly; a hand stretched outwards to move loose locks away from face, tucking them behind an ear. Teeth were revealed in an even wider grin, before the same hand cupped a cheek. “Hey.” The whisper reverberated in her mind, replaying over and over.

Weary eyes regarded the other carefully, a few tears joining her campaign for release. “Please…” Tones were raspy, raw - as if she hadn’t spoken in weeks, as if she’d been denied hydration for days. “Let me go. Please.” Each word was harder to mouth than the next, and it drained her of all energy. The male merely continued that sickly, acidic smile; perhaps he hadn’t heard the room’s other occupant.

“Oh, sweetheart. It’ll all be okay in a minute.” He removed his hand from her cheek, placing it deep into his pocket; a large carving knife was retrieved, slanted so that the light reflected off it, landing directly in her eyes. She winced, groaning slightly. “This is for love, honey. For love. Surely you can’t deny yourself that, hmm?” The skin around those almond eyes of his wrinkled; they glistened - either with joy or maliciousness. With perfected precision, the knife glided across the woman’s neck, allotting beautiful, beautiful crimson.

She wanted to scream, oh how she wanted to scream, but sadly, but only a small gurgle was emitted. Such a saddened look was shot towards him, her eyes pleaded for him to cease the torture and call an ambulance. Call for some form of help. His smile faded, though, the knife thrown to the ground; anger reigned expressions, which were now changing to a bright shade of red.

“Don’t you get it? There can’t be love until Juliet bleeds! You’re bleeding so love can blossom.” Calloused fingers gingerly touched her bleeding throat, and painted her lips crimson;

he forced her into a passionate embrace, however one-sided it may have been, smearing the tantalizing substance across her once attractive features. “It’s always for love; Juliet always has to bleed. Always.” Her ears were deaf now, though; but he didn’t care anymore, not at all. He had gotten his love. That was all that really mattered.

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It's another older piece. And I think this is the part where you review. :D