*Author’s Note: On my 33rd birthday, I asked my twitter followers to give me prompts for a 3-hour writing marathon and in exchange, I would give them a 500-word short story. The following prompt was given by @InkOfScarlet:
“The wind blew across, fluttering her hair as the blood dripped from the slit in her neck. She smiled at the man across from her.”
“Cut!” Yelled Marcus. Janine raised a coy, perfectly arched eyebrow at him.
“What now? Not enough blood again?” She quipped as a crimson jet spurted from the tube hidden under the latex skin glued to her neck. A few crew members snickered. Marcus shifted in his folding director’s chair.
“Janine, you’re supposed to be looking at Jason, not me! And why are you smiling?” His dark eyebrows knitted in a weary way.
“I just thought she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.” She crossed her arms under her red-soaked breasts, pushed up to their maximum fullness by the corseted white lace dress she was wearing. Well… it was once white. Identical copies of it filled an entire rack outside her trailer. Marcus massaged his forehead.
“Of what?” He groaned.
“Of being afraid!” Janine stood her ground on the fake grave under her feet. Blood kept squirting out of the tube on her neck, horizontally.
“Guys, can we cut the blood? That’s enough! We’re wrapped for the day.” Marcus dispersed the crew and approached his starlet with caution, as she stood still for Gladys to remove the latex rig around her neck. “We need to have a chat.”
“Oh, I know.” Janine had a sly look in her eye, one that always confused Marcus. He could never tell if she wanted to eat him, fuck him, or both. “You’ll come by MY trailer. I need a hot shower…”
“I don’t know how you talked me into this zombie picture, you naughty little boy!” Janine insisted on using a British accent which was inexplicable to the film. Marcus was annoyed that she stayed in character off-screen, but he secretly loved it when she called him that… She sat at her vanity, massaging creme moisturizer onto her angelic face. He could tell she was wearing nothing under that beige silk kimono. If people only knew she was really the devil.
“I thought it would be good for both our careers… Good thing it’s gonna ruin us both and then I can retire…” Marcus mused, wistful. His legs were crossed over half an erection as he sat in a lower chair next to her vanity.
“Pssht! You’re not that much older than me and you’re too young to retire.” She caressed the back of his hand with her soft, creamy fingers. Marcus un-crossed his legs. Janine straddled his lap, his fingers pulled the delicate tresses of her golden hair, as they kissed, deep and hard. Janine pushed back on his broad shoulders as she pressed into his erection, making it bigger.
“You’re gonna make me work until I die, is that it?” He asked, his beleaguered, dark eyes filled with love for her.
“If you keep getting hard every time some psycho kills your wife… yeah!” Janine giggled at her husband as he pulled her close… noticing a spot of fake blood behind her ear she missed. It tasted like cherry.