#necromantic

It’s been only a few days since my murder of them their death and they’ve gotten all cold and rotten. The smell has warranted complaints from neighbours. I tell them that it’s just my garbage, the truck hasn’t come for it yet, it’ll be gone soon. But I know how flimsy such an excuse is. The smell of death is something so specific, so distinct, you’ll know it when you smell it.

To be honest, the smell wasn’t bothering me. It didn’t deter me. Infact, I could say it spurred me on more. When I was younger, the stench of maceration bothered me to no end, but I knew I liked it too. I felt the butterflies in my stomach, mixing with the nausea. I adjusted as time went on. And now, snuggled beside them on the couch, watching TV late at night with the soft pitter of rain outside and a delicious liqueur on the table, I can only smile and gaze lovingly at them. I’ve dressed them up in a somewhat satirical albeit cute way; little pair of sunglasses, my favourite hat, a shirt. I stroke their clammy cheeks and trail my fingers down their skin, pressing my lips everywhere I can.

Thinking about laying them down in bed beside me, whispering sweet words and cooing little pet names. I’d be so gentle with them, even during sex. I know they can’t feel it, but I can’t help myself. My love and tenderness didn’t stop at death. I’ll continue to love without an “until”. Even when they’re just bone, it’ll be the same. I’ll still kiss their cheeks, still hold their body beside mine. Still dress them up all handsome n pretty and make sure I don’t break anything even when I’m beyond horny.

Monsters of the Midway 🎃

Necromantic Blood Bowl team painted for a friend of mine who wanted them in Chicago Bears colors. This was a really fun project, I'm especially proud of the can of Chicago Old Style beer that was thrown onto the pitch.

Check out the rest of the team under the cut!