“Oh,” Vito tsked with a snarl of a smile; an ugly, gnashing expression formed by lips unfamiliar with the true image of mortal sympathy. He drew threateningly nearer with that smile, as though in preparation to tear from the face of his lover her nose between his teeth, “Do speak up, Doll Face.” Vito’s below-zero irises had retreated behind the cover of his dilated pupils and his eyes had been cast in a horrid shadow; one which glinted through his heavy lashes and peered into the fear-stricken eyes of the redheaded women whom he had lured into his kingdom that evening. She squeaked shrilly when her wriggling lips parted, after much anticipation, “Perfect. You are perfect. You’re… b-beautiful and b-bloody flawless.” But alas, her voice had not increased in volume since the poltergeist who bound her to his bed had made his request.
His smiled narrowed to form a morbid, pleasured smirk whilst he arched his neck and slowly, he inhaled blood’s heavy scent, savoring it as it hung from the evening air. The smell would surely dissipate when the body was disposed of, and it had been several days since he had last had the privilege, thus it was with one last, lingering breath that he spent the woman’s final moment of life.
“No – stop!” The redhead gargled as his index finger, armed with a freshly manicured nail, swept fluently across her throat. And he chuckled softly through her hair, momentarily intoxicated by the cocktail of relief, power, and faultlessness that pooled beneath his skin – made warm by the body heat of the woman whose life he had stolen. But he was drawn downward from his high by the curt rap of knuckles against his bedroom door. “I told you not to disturb me tonight!” He growled fiercely and stood from the mattress to prowl across the room to the lavatory, collecting an elegant satin robe as he went.
He met the gold-framed mirror in the restroom, which revealed the truth that he had suspected. Though his reflection jerked violently between transparency and existence, the blood with which he had painted his mouth stood out against his fair skin in stark contrast. “Mmm, mmm,” Vito purred sarcastically to himself before slotting his cupped hands beneath the facet, allowing the water to pool along his heart lines. He splashed the water over his mouth, washing clean from his face a sinful hue of diluted red which sloshed quickly about the sink.
“I do hope you aren’t particularly fond of your heart,” Vito informed whomever existed behind the recently replaced mahogany of his door as he doubled back through his room. “Because I have been struck with a craving,” He concluded his threat with mild irritation, drawing the door open to reveal someone whom he had never again expected to lay eyes on. “Mrs. Monster,” His proud shoulders fell in surprise and he took a frightened step backward to reveal to her the woman who lay slaughtered across his bedspread. “Kill another of your pals, have I?” He inquired. "In my defense, this one never let on that she knew you."