It chops down two more times, splashing blood and gore all over her face and breasts. Then she is still, her face forever contorted into a mask of ter...or.The blood splashed onto her unmoving face by the axe slowly travels down her cheeks and the sides of her face, almost like red tears shed in her despair.It starts to snow; large flakes falling onto her butchered, naked body, sticking to her unmoving eyelashes and falling unnoticed into her open mouth.In the middle of the snowy clearing, her. Closing the lipstick she tossed it back into her makeup drawer and examined herself in the mirror. She was tall, five eight, and on the slightly chubby side. Her dark medium length hair was pulled back, pulled into a french twist. Her dress was classic, yet new aged at the same time. The simple black frock sported spaghetti straps, and a slight A-line. The bodice was tight, and low cut, showing the tops of her creamy white breasts, while the back was a mess of ties. It was cut low in the back. More

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