Anna-Marie With Her Shotgun -- Part Twenty Two -- Hemato-Tomato -- Ero Guro Latte Machine

Previously, in an extra measure to extend the suffering of those sentenced to decapitation by guillotine, when France had taken control of the once United States, they had created a special kind of guillotine prior to the invention of the Guillotine Gun. This method of decapitation, had special rests for the arms, such that, prior to the victim being beheaded, they would drive blunt screws into their wrists, much in the same way back in the middle ages, torturers would use thumb screws to extra confessions. This was generally used for specific political crimes, such as those involving espionage and information gathering from rival American states. Even if the guillotined continued to be relatively quick, the executioner would delay their execution as long as possible in order to make the ordeal as painful as possible to extract the most information. The only reason Anna-Marie never underwent this, was do to the grace of being female.

Receiving special treatment on account of being female, is hardly a unique thing for the Twenty First century; during the middle ages women were generally burnt at the stake, rather than drawn and quartered for this very reason. Often, in cases where sentences were commuted, this would mean that women would most frequently be commuted to merely being beheaded, back when drawing and quartering was on the book. When it came to around the long nineteenth century, women continued to get largely preferential treatment. This continued into the great war era, when France would commute most women's sentences to life in prison, while the men were still, in some cases, even publicly beheaded by guillotine. This meant that, up until the Vicci era, women were largely immune from having their heads taken off.

This changed when Marine La Pen became La Presidente, when The Far Right wing began to take control of the French government. She had initially lost in 2017, but ran took control of France in a Coup, leaving much of the Left Wing establishment in shambles. She undid much of the Pro LGBT legislation that was on the books, resulting in many Gay, Lesbian, and Trans women sent to similar containment camps as Muslim people, as they would often fight against the treatment of such people. The old slang term for French People was Frog; Marine La Pen was a gigantic demonic toad, whose ice cold blood could cut through you like a stone. Such was the reason the Anna-Marie was glad that her family had moved from France when they did; she was never sure how to tell her family that she was into girls.

My case was equally tricky; for many years I had mostly considered myself into women, but recently I had become more open about being into guys, resulting in considerable confusion as a trans woman about the kind of people I was into. And by this point, though it was often treated as a way of being anti-French, I was more against the practices of the French death penalty, although technically I was against capital punishment everywhere. So it made my already frazzled personality worse, as I was unsure of whom I could trust to communicate my real feelings; especially when I knew that in reality, I loved French girls more than anyone else. I tried hiding this by trying to find Dutch women to date, and I still like them very much, but to many there was something about the light olive skin tone, and lemon juice dyed hair, and the gentle shapes of their tender throats, as I wanted to gently bite into their soft juicy necks.

Anna-Marie used to wonder if I'd bite her in the neck. Instead the blade of the Dreadful Climb did. Spraying her blood into the wooden basket.

And leaving me alone to my thoughts.

 

"Oh hey Anna-Marie, what's up?" I asked. I remembered the first time that was had dated.

"I told you not to let your mind wander around me." said she. She hopped on top of my on the floor of my room when my mom wasn't home, all my worries fading away as if they were merely nothing to be concerned about. "I can't date someone who likes dead girls." She noticed the look of horror on my face. "Sorry, I'm just kidding."

I didn't like dead girls, what I liked was blood. Not sure what this girl's issue was, who sounded like she came from the hood. But I knew that she would always be there for me, or at least I had hoped. Because she was my Anna-Marie.

My Anna-Marie, who was always there.

To set my soul free.

In high school I would visit the ero guro latte machine, purchasing a copy of gorno anime along with a nice cup of vanilla hot latte. Ero Guro was a literary genre that came out of Japan, the original idea being the "beauty in the ugly." But had gradually came to mind the fertilization of mutilation and other graphic content. But for me, I didn't care for the disembowelment, for a multitude of differing factors. But the main one was that generally I only liked severed necks, and the blood that would gush out of them.

Anna-Marie would never say anything, but it was a topic that we always tended to avoid. We would talk about other things, like the most current movie we watched on a Saturday night, such as Another Man, Another Chance. I never liked westerns growing up, but made a special exception for French girls.

Yet inside, there was a darker reason.

Something that I had kept from the innocence of the world. I would fantasize about ordering a side of severed French girl's head, recline with it on the bed. And dream dreams of sweet little angels screaming, before their heads drop. Yet the Ero Guro latte machine, would always be a whirring, when my old man was stirring. And I knew, despite the darkest nature of my myself, that I wanted to protect my girl from my dad.

The girl as by Annabelle Lee.

And those seraphs I would I beheaded on a guillotine, would visit me in dreams, and give me sweet teddy bears, as a form of peace offering, as wedding gift between me and my Anna-Marie. It was then that I had decided, against all the loss of my hope.

That we were married in death.

posted by JustSarah @ 22nd Sep 2018, 9:49 PM