SHO-Dexter

Hello, dear friend. How are you today? You don't know me? I apologize. You see. I know you. I can see what's going on in that mind. The twitching of your hand. The lust in your eyes. You feel the need for blood. It's right on the tip of your tongue. You poor bastard. I feel your need. Your hunger. It's overwhelming. But control is the key. Young bodies laid out on the floor. It took me a while to dig them out. Piece them back together. Carefully. I could never do this. So who's the real monster here? It's time you shut your mouth. You'll wake up soon. Wrapped up in plastic. I'm a neat monster you see. We can't have

Like winter frost riding up and down my spine, The smell of blood sends goose bumps dancing Beneath my skin. The aroma Intoxicating. Blind to all else existing in the universe, I watch the liquid crimson gold Lick pale flesh. The beauty Mesmerizing. The thick fluid lying about cold soft tissue As roses, seductively decorating a lover's bed. This is my Eden, No Eve to get me evicted from my dark joy. I rejoice until the overpowering aroma subsides, It frees me, And I reign in my senses once again. To hide behind a benevolent façade ….until the next moon rises.

Demon You said you understood my need This need for bright red blood You tried to aim this urge to kill But in the end forgot That you too are afraid of me My lust beyond control You tried to save yourself by Making use of this dark soul Scared that I would break these chains Direct my anger towards you Fearing you couldn't stop the beast Not able to see through Now you're gone though not by me So I'll have you assured I know you've been right all along Demons can't be cured

Rule 01 { 02 February 2010 } Written for Fanfic Bake-Off. Prompt: "Catch." "What is rule number one of the code?" "Dad!" "I mean it Dexter. If you forget any other rule, don't let it be this one." I echoed the same words to Cody and Astor as they sat disinterestedly, their fledgling dark passengers more bored than they were as people shuffled in for the show. The herd came in murmuring, whispering, crying, in stark contrast to my apathetic step-children and myself who, although I can fake emotions with the best of human creatures, chose to sit there rather seriously in imitation of Harry. For the briefest moment, I thought back to Detec