​​​Michael Myers ​​And The corps of five Disney princess, Poetry by Drew Price

Genre: Dark, Life, Society

​​​Michael Myers
The corps of five Disney princess

by Drew Price

You see he was better finding things on his victims to play with drawn to find there’s not much less of perfect on the face of a Disney princess. He loved Ariel’s tail you see, he was so infatuated by the slimy scales the way they ripped and tore against the cold touch of sharp metal steel that he loved oh so much to bury deep into the flesh of a struggling victim, Ariel did just that for him, struggle. He ripped her hair out bit by bit… it was seductive to him. He started far before she was dead so you could see the pain that painted across her canvas face, it was a masterpiece to Michael.

He worked his way over to princess Jasmine. He’d stripped her of all her clothes and she lay naked, but not in a sexual way, no, he wanted to see the blood pour from her body as he skinned her like an animal because he just loved her complexion. He loved the thick yet subtle curve of her eyebrows they made him smile, something he hadn’t done in a while. He loved pulling on her hair until her scalp began to bleed but only while she was alive so he could hear the horror in her scream like the first drop on a roller coaster, he liked it that way. This rush of electricity, this rush of energy, this torture… for himself and his victims.

He made his way over to Snow White… pale as the moon on a pitch black night he choked her into a blood moon. All slob and tears wet fears that struck her face at a grab of a hand he loved it that way. His hands cold, his hands power his hands blood and breaking bones that enjoyed the feeling of their caving in its palm it was electrifying. The fear reflected off her eyes into his as pure amazement, how much power he had over these beautiful women.

He next turned to princess Tiana. She seemed the most unphased by all the horror she’d seen so he gouged out her eyes for not respecting his art like, “god damn I’ve turned them into masterpieces only god can reconstruct and you show no interest how dare you” she sat in the presence of a terrifying man but she sat paralyzed in strength no scream until the harsh textures of his fingers met the back of her eyelid like a tight grip on a fast ball. She called on every god that came to mind like “Oh god, sweet Buddha, baby Jesus god of the tress and the bees the land I stand on god of the earth mother earth, somebody, help me!” Somebody hear her cry. This man he watched her die in one quick sigh she had her last breath like the pain was too much so she had her last breath like she couldn’t play strong right before that last breath, like in that last breath you’d heard her curse this man and curse those hands all cold and blood bone breakers like the end all power reigned through this man and.. At this moment it did.

He made his way over to Rapunzel. He loved the length of her hair how it curved down her back the mystery in her stare not being able to tell whether she was dead or alive, but the twitch in her left eye showed she could feel it all. Every cut and rip every slap and hit he like to see how red she could get. He hung her upside down and played in her hair until the blood in her body dripped through her nostrils and eyes dying her hair a cherry tone.

So that was his story. He took pleasure in the horror of torture.


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