Cold Whispers

ok this was originally a fic i wrote for a BtVS message board but i thought id post it here too.

constructive critism is welcome.




Blood falls in a little puddle by my bed, forming little rivelets seeping down into the hard wooden floor…staining it like some crimson dye.

Its cold..the shutters rattle harshly against the window as the crisp October air creeps in as i sit here on my bed, clothed only in my underwear. I shrug. It doesnt bother me though…i can barely feel my fingers and toes go numb,the frost forming around my eyelids or the clean edge of the knife as i jabbed it into myself..nor did i notice myself shaking violently from the doesnt seem to phase me.

Something colder grips my heart you see, my soul bleeds black for her..

I am gone.

For my soul no longer belongs to me left sometime ago. All thats left is an empty hollow of a pathetic version of myself.

Almost done now..

I stand up slowly and walk towards the mirror the knife still gripped in my hand. I stare at myself.



dead, rotting inside.

I smile as i examine the dark red carvings gashed into the soft white flesh of my stomach..maybe i’d cut too deep…Blood pours down..out the markings forming simply the letters B-U-F-F and Y.

She died sometime ago.

I look outside the window and watch as the moon elites a spectral glow over the figure which resides inside my room. Sitting against the chair in her translouscent gown;her hair glowing eerily, lips darkened a purplish tint,her neck still bent at a noticibly odd angle, her eyes cold and blank but still…beautiful.

Like a fallen angel.

I drop the knife with a clang on the floor and find myself moving towards her as if she has me under her trance. Her eyes beckon me..surrender they seem to say. So i fall to my knees infront of her and gather her hands in mind as i reach for the knife and pierce her wrists until blood drips from her puntures, pressing her wrists over the wounds on my abdoman seemingly mending our blood together. I raise my bloodied hand to her face and caress her flawless skin smearing her cheek;i move myself closer and lick the blood off her cheek tasting it.”I told u B, we’d always be together..” I look up at her and once again am awed by how beautiful she is…even in death.

Death..beautiful sweet release.

She speaks to me..i can hear her, inside my head in my thoughts..

All the time.

She tells me to do things for her,

i happily comply to her every wish.

With one last glance i stand up and kiss her lips.

Soft as rose petals.

I shiver at how cold they are but still, i smile.

After dressing and with my destination in mind, i leave the apartment walking down the street.

Everytime im not with her, i feel her presence, like a cold chill..a whisper against my ear.

Its 12am.

I come to a stop at the front door and contemplate my entrance.

I knock firmly on the door and step back as the door creaks open and am greeted with the face a tired whithered man, although he looks no older than 40.

“Hello Giles.” i say as i throw an ax down onto his head with a mighty blow splitting it clean in two.

A he drops to the ground, i pick the now bloodied ax out of his head and step into the room and am greeted by horrified stares.

I grin.

“What? no welcome party?”

After a period of silence, the witch decides to speak.

“You did it didnt you? you broke into the cemetery and stole her body from the coffin DIDNT YOU?!”

“Well, i cant say that i didnt.” i answer the redhead.

“You sick fuck.”

Ah willow, always hated me ‘so’ much didnt she?

“That i am.”

I grin again.

“What do u want Faith?”

I swagger closely to red until im inches away from her face.”You see what happened to watcher man over there?” i say as i point the ax over to where he lay dead in a rather large puddle of blood.

“Well…” I lick the ax slowly with my tongue, blood and all dripping from my mouth and tongue as i form a menacing smile with my lips as i am pleased with the look i receive from the wiccan.

“Guess who’s all getting a turn?” says i, as i slam the door shut.

3 hours later, im standing here in the middle of what seems to be an endless pile of body parts, scattered everywhere. A torn limb here, a severed head there. Blood splattered against the walls as if a painter threw a bucket of red paint. Not including myself…soaked head to toe in dark ooze. I look around and see all their bodies, the expressions left on the faces after i dismembered them, the looks they had as i ribbed their insides out of them while they were still alive and forced them eat it, how much they screamed and bellowed as i chopped off their legs and made them crawl on their hands,

music it was to my ears as they howled when i sprinkled maggots inside the large gaping hole inside their heads.

I smile widely.

Then, dropping the ax, i walk out of the room closing the door behind and walk home. Upon reaching the apartment i strip myself of my heavily soiled clothes and enter into the cool room.

And i see her.

I step closer and carry her lifless body to the bed and climb into the matress with her soaking it with the blood i still had on me.

I didnt care.

I enveloped her into my arms and presed her cool body against mine, and shivered. And as i lay there cradled in her arms, shivering against the cold air and my own madness, caked in blood i whisper my professions of love to her. And i swear,

in my mind,

i heard her whisper back.

By The Evil Cheezman

Purveyor of sacred truths and purloined letters; literary acrobat; spiritual godson of Edgar Allan Poe, P.T. Barnum, and Ed Wood; WAYNE MILLER is the head architect of EVIL CHEEZ PRODUCTIONS, serving up the finest in entertainment and edification for the stage, the page, and the twain screens, silver and computer. He is the axe-murderer who once met Andy Griffith.


  1. Sick and disturbing…..but i really liked it! A really twisted love story i think. It was good.

  2. This was definitely refreshing to read. I enjoyed it thoroughly. Romance, madness, murder…all of the needed aspects in a good love story.

  3. um, well, i liked the first part of it, but i honestly thought that the whole, Buffy the vampire slayer thing kinda wrecked it…. like i loved the first bit, i really dont want to be sounding rude, but i reackon u should try rewriting it from the first third… it was really good. anyway, dont listen to me i wouldnt know……

  4. I actually agree that the whole buffy thing wrecked it a little bit. If it wasn’t for that it wouldn have been ok.

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