She stood in the doorway, half naked and unaware, of the silhouette in the corner, enjoying a stare. She unwrapped the towel, tousled her hair reached for her nightie, her skin glowing bare.
The onlooker kept watch, her movements of grace, stealing images of her body, with such little to trace. The onlooker tried to control, a twitch in the face, pulling even harder, the shred of lace.
She groomed herself pretty, ready to rest, hugged all her teddies, cuddling the best. She pulled up the covers, let go at her chest, stretched for the switch, preparing the guest.
The onlooker waited, so patiently to strike, waiting and waiting, till nearly the end of night. The onlooker slid, from position to the girls right, strangled her in ribbons, stabbed with a knife.
She choked and she gargled, sweating and strained, groping and struggling, to reach a savior unnamed. She coughed and cried, her spit forming rain, gasping long and rugged breaths, suffering maimed.
The onlooker stood, feeling the work complete, turned on a heel, facing the nights raw heat. The onlooker turned, one last look at the treat, the girl lay mangled, dripping more than defeat.
She stopped her breathing, held it in so tight, waited for the onlooker, to head into the night. The onlooker left, not a print nor contrite, and she gasped, the door closed without a fight.
(First post, I am the author)