MicroHorror

Her skin is torn, bloody, some of her limbs. Her hair hangs so limply, so long and stringy, she’s like bones, so little flesh left on her body. Her eyes are sunken in and she makes odd sounds. She tried to bite him a few times but she’s too weak. That was before the virus fully turned her. 

Her jaw clicks sometimes, she’s so hungry. She hasn’t fed. It tortures him to see her like this. To him, her beauty seemed not to have faded, even in death. He’d made love to her rotting, undead body, longing to kiss her blackened lips just once. He’d sobbed in corners for days, as she stared at him with her empty, lifeless eyes, unable to comfort him as she used to. He would never hear the sound of her voice again, never again would she hold him when things got too bad. What was the point anymore?
 
With tears streaming down his face, he slowly releases her bonds. She drags one leg behind her as she follows him, no strength in her to lunge at him as she had at first, weakly moving toward him, practically crawling.. It had no longer been safe for him to hunt the night for the living, to feed her. There weren’t many left. He had been too afraid, but he couldn’t bear to see her like this any longer. Weeping, he runs his fingers through her hair, pulls her close and kisses her one last time. To him her lips taste as sweet as they had in life. He doesn’t even scream when she bites into him, barely feeling the savage tear of her teeth as she rips out his tongue, devours his lips. He closes his eyes, pressing her lips to his neck one last time, whispers her name as he dies in her arms.