There are times
When you wonder
What the Hell you did
To deserve this
What heinous crime had
You committed in
A former life
That you must live
How will you live through it?
There is no other way
Goddess Smiles upon us
In Her way imparting
But Lessons, so that
We may understand
And evolve, become more
To evolve is to grow
And we grow from Love
From Lessons, in time
Where we may have seen
Falsity and Lies
We now see an open door
Open arms, a shelter
From the storm
Be it thunderous winds
Outside your window
Or raging inside
Tomorrow is a new Slay
A new day
A clean slate upon which
You scribe, carve, your name
Be it in beautiful watercolours
Or in the lovely crimson lifewater
Where we truly live
The place where your blood
Sings your truth to anyone
With ears to listen, to hear
Sing me a song of
Bloodlust and Kinship
A sonnet of glistening rubies
Of the knifes edge, ah l’amour
A Darkest tale of Intrigue
And romance, for they lovers
A ballad of soaring delight
Should you prefer
A firm handhold in the Light
A deeper understanding
For those who lurk in the shadows
How illumination is not painful
It casts shadows from its face
Offers shelter in its embrace
One in the same
A well kept secret from those
Who are so blinded by the Light
The cannot see that they
Reside in a darker Light
That they are dusk, twilight
Tis Heartwrenching to hear them laugh and speak truth
And deny their natures
These sinners, these disbelievers
Teach us, whether
Darkness or light
Leave the front door
Unlocked to your mind palace
Allow us to slither and slink
Tasting the sublime honey
That has gathered in the crevices
Flavoured in the claret of fear
Let us Journey down
That forgotten hallway, it’s floor
Littered in debris of the ages
It’s walls painted with the mind pictures
Of a raving lunatic, leavings red as wine
And begin again
Go Rate The Orphan Killer and Give It The Top Rating It Deserves
Its name is Legion
I keep it covered
In the corner
Under a sheet
Wrapped in Iron
Encased in cement
It wasn’t ready
When he said
He didn’t like it
That it wasn’t alive
And begged me to
Make it stop
I told him it wasn’t ready
To leave it alone
That it Bites, Seethes
That it wasn’t time
He said it was unnatural
That it was wrong
He was right
It is unnatural
It scares me, and it’s mine
Its got razor sharp claws
Its eyes, they drip blood
It drools acidic venom
He told me to destroy it
Get rid of it, Kill it
I told him that I loved it
I Love it, its Mine
It’s loose now, I hear it
Its bowel loosening
Clicking across the walls
In the Dark, in the Night
You are unsafe
I’ve come undone
My psyche split
Desperately trying to hold the centre
but it won’t hold, it won’t stay
It’s closer now, slinking
Slithering in the darkness
The quiet wet slurp
As it licks its lips
With a salivating swipe
You should run
Like the Clarions of Hell
Before it slides up behind you
Panting its hot breath on your neck
To run its tongue across your flesh
It’s not what it appears
It’s hideous, its sublime
It is perfect
The Apocalypse Riders
Reigning Destruction and Death
Shine in its eyes
Run before it digs it claws
Into your chest, lacerating
Tearing the flesh
Ripping free your ribcage
Burrowing its face into
The hole it made
To gnash at your still beating heart
Go Rate The Orphan Killer and Give It The Top Rating It Deserves
Raven was silent upon our return to my dwelling. I suspected she was musing upon our lesson, and this pleased me immensely. This would mean that she has already begun to understand her power, and the responsibility to use it. I glance behind me, impatient to return to my home. Perhaps Rowan would be awaiting our return. Raven reminds me of Rowan. They could have been sisters in Raven’s time, her first life, and still may be, should Raven be able to understand the unwritten law of this land. Creatures do not take the lives of other Creatures. I, however, am exception to this rule. I do not spare.
Raven drifts to my side, glancing at my visage and the expression upon it, her gaze barely a whisper. I remind her that she agreed to Lessons, and am greeted with a light snarl in her throat, teeth bared in my direction. This makes me smile, and I stroke her cheek with my talon gently, not to injure, but in comfort. She looks away, bloody tears gathering at the corners of her lovely eyes. The creatures that stole her love from her would pay, and suffer.
The windows in my dwelling are dark. Rowan has not come this night, and I find my markings twinge with disappointment. There would be other nights for introductions, I muse as Raven sits upon her place of slumber, a sigh in her chest. Scythe trembles in my hand, pulling towards her own resting place. She had fed well and now she would sleep, for a time. I light the candles that line the mantle of the fireplace, the holding place of Jar, now one of many, all containing Treasures from my Prey, all staring back at me with the blueness of the day sky. And the Heart that still beats, floating in its own Jar, a true treasure taken from Prey.
I see Raven staring intently at the Heart, watching its thumping movements, distorting the magic that holds it there with each and every beat, her ocular orbs far away. Perhaps lost in memory, or in the Lesson to come. She darts her eyes to me, and to my hands, curious and not fearful. I hand her the barbed metal Death Bracelet, another Treasure I secreted away, in reminiscence of my Companion.
“The Next Lesson?” she asks, a small pleased smile creasing her lips, as I nod my agreement. First, we rest, and then, I teach.
I hold the barbed metal in my hands, turning it, examining its structure. I’m sure this is going to be a very interesting lesson.
Maiden says we must rest but I’m not sure I can. My nerves are on end with lingering excitement, the events of earlier still playing in my mind. It was a good feed. A good lesson. Now mixed with questions. This device she just gave me, how will it be used? My thoughts are swirling as I drift off to sleep.
I awaken to the sound of Scythe humming, soft and peaceful, not a sound I can recall her making. She has rested well and is excited about what lays ahead. Maiden is out on the porch, leaned against one of the pillars, she has the metal bracelets in her hand.
I clear my throat before I open the door, not wanting to startle her. She asks if I rested well. I assure her I did. Beside her, I look at her face, she looks happy, also something I’m not accustomed to. She senses my trepidation and smiles. Today will be a good day.
She leads me back to the table, where we will discuss the metal wire. She has placed it front of me and I begin to run my finger along it’s barbs. The feeling of it is quite sensational, cold and unforgiving, yet it screams of pain and torture. My mind is wandering, visions of what I could do with this racing around. I hadn’t heard Maiden when she began to talk and she pounds the table with her fist, bringing me back from my thoughts.
She growls her displeasure, not happy that she has to begin again. She speaks of a companion, a man that she herself learned about the metal from. A man that she is obviously smitten with. I keep this thought to myself, I’m sure she would not be amused by it. This metal it seems has many uses but the most common is as a restraint. It holds prey in place while making it very painful and hard for them to try to escape. If used correctly it will just burrow deeper with every movement, ripping flesh, sending crimson tides out from the punctures it will make.
Visions flood my mind again as she continues on. Men tethered to trees, bound at the neck, wrists and ankles with the barbed metal. Unable to move they beg for mercy, something Maiden and her companion are not known for. They writhe in agony, twisting, trying to find an escape but only managing to dig the barbs in deeper.
Scythe screams, bringing us both out of the visions we were delighting in. Maiden is up, holding her before I even realize what is happening. She looks at me, half-smile half snarl on her lips, “It is time, bring the metal.”
Raven startles as I speak to her, Scythe fairly drooling as She quivers in my palm, Her smooth stalk nearly prickling in my grasp. She rises to her feet, clutching the Barbed Metal of my companion, with a smile much like a snarl. This pleases me. Prey is close, almost too close, and I am alight with desire to feed, and Feed. I bid her come, and open the door. Night has fallen like an inky blanket across the land, the shadows reaching out to stroke my cheek with their velvet fingers.
Her body in pre-preparation to spring, Raven is tense beside me, her anxiety fragrant with silver and anise, and voicing a high squeal around us. Prey is very close, this time too close, having breached the spells that Rowan had placed around my dwelling, in an effort to cease my hunts. It amuses me now to imagine her terror and disappointment, that horrid bubbling sound spraying from my mouth. pleasure dashed, I turn to other pleasures, Prey. My mouth fills with water as my hunger rages, flavoured with arousing fury, as I search the branches for movement, for Light, or a Darker Light.
Prey dares much, choosing to stand so close, hiding in the shadows, in plain sight, to run his fingers through my hair, letting his senses fill his mind. Scythe swings out, placing her tooth upon his neck, biting gently to taste the essence of this creature. He smiles. I am displeased with this reaction. I am Death Maiden, I am Fear. I am Rage. Yet his lips curve up in amusement.
Raven slithers in the lovely darkness, close enough to see, close enough to harm, should she lose her control. I glance at her, Scythe nearly floating in excitement of feeding, warning her to stay where she stands, while I prepare Prey for his coming lesson. I feel pressure upon Scythe’s shapely stalk, and snarl as I press harder on Her quicksilver tip. Prey must be mad, ill in his skull shell, of this I am sure. He is touching Scythe in a most ill-mannered fashion, unmindful of Her sharpest point digging further into the flesh of his throat. I yank Her free of him with a growl rumbling in my chest, stepping closer to claw my talons into his throat, fully intending to tear it out.
She is at my side, quietly speaking to my ears, stilling my fury with a word. I nod my agreement, lessening the hold I have on this disgusting creature, he who dares smile in my direction again, his fingers running along my cheek as a death’s head moth’s wing. Hunger of another sort fills my blood, making it scream in harmony with Scythe’s, and I choose to Feed before I consume his essence.
My companion has her visage twisted in a suspicious expression, displeased with the situation I have placed her in, and I could smell her confusion in the air. Rowan is close, she has started the fire before the door of my dwelling, and now stands as still as stone in the doorway. Raven startles, snarls, prepared to spring at Rowan, as she moves in her quiet way towards us, her hands out in greeting and to grasp Scythe to her breast as a loved child. I greet her with affection of my heart, running a talon along her face, with a smile, as I had Raven not so long ago.
Prey hangs in my grasp still, watching the bond that has grown between my Witch and I with interest, and I turn from Rowan, Scythe, and Raven, hearing the conversation between the two Creatures as a dull mutter in my ears, my attention fully on Prey and his eyes. They are Treasure. I will take them for Jar. He stares back into my unnatural blues, meeting dagger for dagger, leaning towards me as he does wrapping his hands in my midnight shot ember hair, and pressing his lips to mine. I match his fervour, biting his bottom lip hard enough to cause him to hiss, but lightly enough not to draw lifewater to the surface and feel him rise against me. First, I Feed. Then comes the pleasure.
Rowan talks to me of her first lesson. How frightened she was, how Maiden taught her about the barbed metal. She was unsure of her own power, still is, but she learned. Learned that unlike all the other creatures who live on this place, Maiden is different. She spares no one. This thought still confuses me, if she spares none, why are Rowan and I safe? Is it only a matter of time before we too become prey? Rowan smiles, she believes we are safe. I hope so, I’ve seen what Maiden is capable of and I have no desire to be on the receiving end of her fury.
I watch closely as Maiden begins to toy with her prey. She teases him, giving him a false sense of security. Hope, a fleeting idea, especially where she is concerned. He has no hope for survival, even if he managed to free himself from her, I will not let him live.
The way she toys with him is amusing, kissing him, biting his lip, as if he’s a long-lost lover instead of food. It’s all a ruse, one he is foolish not to see. Rowan senses my confusion and tries to explain. It’s the art of the kill. Anyone can raise a gun or wield a knife, but being a slayer is more than just taking lives. A true slayer has finesse, style, to them it’s a labor of love. That was part of Rowan’s first lesson, the art of the kill. Could this be what I’m supposed to learn?
I continue to watch as Maiden allows this man to touch her. To someone else this would look like long-lost lovers reuniting, but I know better, as does Rowan. They caress one another, groping like lovers on a first date. His hands exploring every inch of her. Her talons are out, raking his flesh. He is aroused, loving the rough way she treats him. His hands are in her hair, pulling her head back as he kisses her neck. If he could see her eyes he would know this is not pleasing to her.
They continue their false lovers dance. Unsure of Maidens intentions I begin to grow restless. I know about love, I had that once, I want to learn about pain. I want to know more about this metal that I hold. I want to see it wrapped around him, digging into his flesh, crimson flowing. The thought makes me salivate. His lifewater released from within, calling to me, wanting me to feed. I have been twisting the metal around in my hands, oblivious to the cuts it is causing. Rowan sees the tiny droplets of my own lifewater, beading up in little points on my fingers and gasps, bringing me out of my trance.
We return our focus to Maiden, her game has worked, prey has let down his guard. He has forgotten about Rowan and myself. His only focus is on her, his lust is strong, you can almost feel it in the air. A smile has returned to Maiden’s face, she is enjoying his ignorance. Her eyes catch mine, it’s almost time.
I tap Rowan’s arm, did you see that? We stand by the fire, ready to pounce at her command. Rowan still holds Scythe, she is humming, ready to feed. I have the barbed metal in hand, eager to wrap it around his wrists. Soon he will regret coming here, he will beg for us to stop, pleading for his miserable life but he will receive no mercy.
I let him take me, this creature, though his existence offends me, I relish the stiffness he fills me with. It is plentiful enough to abate my Hunger, causing me to dig furrows with my talons into his back. He hisses in my ear, pounding into my hollow all the harder, daring to bite my shoulder, before raising his head to stare into my unnatural blues. That smile upon his lips annoys me, and I lift my own in a snarl that he mistakes for a plea for more. He thrusts harder again, stabbing me over and over with his flesh sword, his hand at my throat, gently squeezing.
Humans are strange beings, that pain would cause them pleasure, I muse as I drag my hands around his smooth sides and puncture them with my claws, eliciting a howl from Prey, and causing his climax. His seed is hot as it coats my insides, my own apex exploding from deep within at the same instant.
I sense Raven and Rowan, watching me Feed with interest and dismay. I care not at all, as Prey collapses atop me, his hands yet again in my hair, fingers moving as small animals in search of play. His lips find my windpipe, leaving behind a shivery wetness. This is an odd sensation and though it does not displease me, I do not like it either.
Less so do I enjoy having him press them to mine, tongue licking my lips. Prey must learn his lessons. I bite him, hard, bringing a gush of his salty lifeforce to my own tongue, and feeling it drench my mouth, trickling down the back of my throat. His hands clench into fists, pulling my curls painfully, pleasurably, as his stiffness grows within me again.
This interests me not, only the flavour of his pain on my palate holds my desires. I release his lip from my teeth, feeling its sticky warmth drizzle down my chin, and instead grasp his airtube in my hand, my talons pressing into the flesh surrounding it,yet not puncturing. Not yet.
I hear Scythe’s song, Her minute trembling speaking to my black heart. My Beautiful Destroyer is aflame with need. Mine own slaked, I was ready to devour the essence of this Creature and allow Her to slake Her own. Prey ceases his movements, his eyes, Treasure, still filled with lust, holding my own, an ocular embrace. I smile, licking his Lifewater from my lips as I push him off of me, feeling his depleting stiffness leave my body with an almost pang of regret. I hold his throat, talons now digging into the flesh and bringing rubies to the surface as I gain my feet, and he his.
I can hear Raven’s hunger from here, and her urgent need to use the Barbed Metal she holds in her hand. Soon Child. Soon. Rowan stands still, holding Scythe close and murmuring in her soothing, quiet way, but both prepared to pounce to my aid should the need arise. It wouldn’t. Having Fed replenished me, as did the drink of warm claret of Prey’s veins.
Prey attempts to touch me, to reach out and stroke my visage with his fingertips, and I snarl, startling him. He smiles yet again, this confusing Creature, his hands finding my waist and pulling me closer. Raven growls and crouches to spring, and I feel that horrid bubbling erupt from my chest. Rowan smiles, her mildly indulgent smile, placing a hand on Raven’s shoulder to stay her. The game is complete and now Prey will pay. I allow him one last devouring of my lips, for my own enjoyment, before squeezing my hand tighter. He drops at my feet in a fleshy heap, and I motion Raven and Rowan closer.
I suck Prey’s blood from my finger tips, it tastes of honey and desire, sweet to my tongue, as I listen to my companions discuss how to best confine Prey for the Final Indignities. I feel pride. Raven was learning her Lessons very well. At my feet, Prey’s naked and well-formed body twists in his unconsciousness, it wouldn’t be long before he wakes and the Dance would begin again. Raven delights in the suggestions, and turns to me, her pleasure in her Lessons evident, as she begins to tell me her plans.
Maiden approves of our plan, tells us to get started, she will be right back. She heads to her home, to clean herself up I would imagine, as Rowan and I begin.
Prey lays twitching and unconscious, but not for long so we move quickly. Rowan hoists him up and against a large Elm, holding him as I use my abilities to string the barbed metal through the tree, using my minds hands keeps me safe from the barbs. It slithers through the tree like a demonic snake. I secure one end around a large branch, the other wraps around his wrists, binding his arms above his head, then down around his neck, twice for good measure. Lastly his ankles are bound together, can’t have him kicking his feet about. Rowan steps back next to me and we take in our handy work. He looks secure to us, hopefully Maiden will approve.
We are standing by the fire when she joins us, the blood cleaned off, hair back in place. She walks to prey, examining what we have done, circling the tree and nodding her approval. Prey starts to come back to us, murmuring low in his throat. We stand, three sisters of destruction, watching his futile attempts, smiling at the thoughts of what’s to come. Scythe joins us, singing Her sweet song, anxious for her taste of him. Maiden strokes her blade whispering that the time is almost here.
He tries to move his arms but it’s of little use, he is caught, trapped and unable to move. His eyes widen with fear as the realization sets in. He has become aware of his misfortune, too late to save himself, the pleading begins.
Rowan approaches Prey, her voice soft and soothing, speaking non truths, everything will be ok. Prey has fear in his eyes but his body becomes still. The barbed metal has been digging in, causing much discomfort. Rowan is nose to nose with him, stroking his cheek, if not for the metal you would think they were lovers. She grabs his manhood, hard, and pulls. He shrieks his displeasure, beginning to twist again, trying to free himself. Rowan laughs and releases his swollen member, red marks already appearing where she had gripped it so tightly. This will be her treasure but she will wait to take it, there is much in store for him, don’t want him bleeding out too soon. She returns to us, smiling, turning prey over to me.
His pleading makes me sick, the way he whines like a little girl. I hold up my hand, the sound instantly muffled as if a cloth has been stuffed in his mouth. His eyes widen, tears begin to spill down his cheeks. I step to him, smelling his fear, breathing it in. It’s intoxicating, fear is, a delightful mix of honey and cinnamon. I stroke his hair with the gentlest of touches, trying to calm him. I don’t want his heart racing, he needs to be calm. I lick my lips and smile, showing my fangs to him. He closes his eyes as I carefully kiss his neck. The vein is pulsing, calling to me with every beat. I need to stay clear of the barbs, don’t want to get cut. I sink my teeth into him, sucking his lifewater out through the holes, careful not to drain him completely, we need him conscious. I step back, crimson dripping from the corners of my mouth, and smile. His head dangles forward, pressing against the barbed metal around his throat. Fresh droplets appear at the punctures, a sign that I didn’t take to much.
His wrists are raw and open where the metal has dug in, his skin hanging in flaps. This intrigues me, the way this tool of torture works. Unforgiving in it’s purpose, mangling flesh and causing pain. I can see why Maiden and her companion like it. It shows no mercy, no remorse as it pierces and rips prey apart. I like it, the sheer brutality of it makes me tingle with delight. I could finish him, squeeze the metal tighter around his neck, cutting through his flesh until I hit bone. Then just one forceful yank and his head would be severed, no more prey. I can’t do that though, Maiden needs her turn, she must show him the error of his ways, were I to deny her that I fear I would receive his punishment. So I still my thoughts, can’t have my mind committing such tortures just yet.
I look at his downturned face, his eyes are still closed, so I smack him. He jolts, eyes wide and filled with fear. I take his chin in my hand and kiss his lips before I push his head back against the tree.
It is time for Scythe to taste him.
I am well pleased with the binding that Rowan and Raven have placed upon Prey. His death bracelets well constructed, a worthy contraption. Raven has tasted of him, her efforts to withhold admirable in the face of such an easy meal. I have pride in my blackened heart. My gaze meets Rowans’s, her mild eyes aflame with delight. An odd come about, her normally kind disposition replaced by the light of a darker essence, bearing that as a predator. The Witches of this Land will not be pleased, of this I am sure, and a heavy price will be due as they discover the changes.
It matters not to my mind, as the scent of pine and abject fear waft to me on the slight breeze, its breath cooling to my bonecover. I am starving, my flesh crawling with desire to excise his flesh from his bones with my talons, my teeth, with Scythe. Prey stares stonily in my direction, his lip turned up in a sneer making his almost handsome face displeasing in the fire animal’s rage.
Rowan shifts her weight, her air hissing from her throat, annoyance that I take my time to observe Prey in their torturous contraption. I smile at her, baring my teeth in what I hoped was a pleasant manner. It felt foreign to my visage, to show my teeth to a Beloved One, yet she returned it with a further relaxed sigh. I glance at Raven, who has taken her place at my other side, watching her lick her lips in a most delightful manner, eyes on Prey. Scythe is singing to my soul as Demon’s Bells, Her song one of famished need, Her lovely stalk shivering as my palm touches it.
I approach Prey with caution. I have learned my lessons well, and remain wary of him, though he hangs in a tree, the blood sparkling on the barbed metal, turning it into a glimmering jewel. He has yet to understand his doom. His ocular orbs beg me for mercy and I let the bubbling sound rend the air, throwing my head back in pleasure.
Prey startles, the colour draining from his face, turning him pale as the moon, pulling himself backwards and causing a small bloodfall from his injured wrists. Scythe’s tip dips forward to drink of his lifewater, a satisfied sigh settling upon her Beautiful Blade. I hold Her close, pressing my lips against Her sharpest edge, capturing a crimson ruby upon my tongue. A most delicious mixture of fermented fruit and turned soil, flavored with terror and remorse. I feel my companions stare, the combined weight of their gaze enough to cause a snarl to escape from between my teeth.
Prey lunges forward, causing himself further injury, in an attempt to cause me pain, to stop, to Spare him. I dig my talons into his scalp and ruthlessly push it back against the tree, sounding a hollow thud upon its impact, running my free hand across the barbed metal at his throat, and down his chest, digging furrows in his bonecover, slicing deep and leaving streaks as it travelled. His eyes grow very wide, almost fall out of the sockets that hold them tightly to his head, and screams against the will of Raven’s abilities.
With the lightening speed of one practiced, I pluck one of his eyes from its place, leaving it to dangle moistly against one cheek. Prey writhes and twists, the barbed metal cutting to the bones that hold his hands to his arms, and causing it to dig deeper yet into his throat. This pleases me, and reach to pluck the other when he bites me, his teeth slicing through my flesh as air, with the intent of tearing off a mouthful of my bonecover. Raven darts forward, prepared to end him in defense, her snarl now a shriek of fury and dismay.
I still her with my eyes, and snatch the remaining orb from his head, hearing a wet smack as it hit his other check, Rowan is close, holding Jar, Treasures Preserving Fluid astringent and strong from the open lid, fully prepared to receive It’s newest jewels. I grasp the slimy roots in my hands and pull them free, Prey’s resulting bonechilling shriek an aria to my raging soul. Carefully, with respect I place them into Jar, where they bounce off their brethren, already acquainting themselves.
Prey is sobbing as though his heart would break, his pain as fragrant as the most delicious food. I run Scythe’s sharpest tip down his torso, pausing as she bites him, burrowing into his side and causing a gush of his lifewater to splatter down onto the hard ground, Scythe’s Song is one of fulfillment and malevolence, raising an octave as She tears free of his flesh, the meat of his belly a gaping wound in which his internal ropes peek. I move around him, Scythe drawing lovely pictures in blood on his bonecover, delicate lines resembling ribbons drip and drool from Her bites.
I offer Rowan her Treasure, willing to allow him to suffer a little more before I administer his Final Indignities. She shakes her head in her quiet way, gesturing with her hand to continue. I nod my acquiescence, offering her Scythe to hold close to her as I end this Creature who dared enter my space. I step close to Prey, feeling him recoil at the lack of distance between us, and lean in to gently kiss him, running my tongue across his lips, feeling his lips part beneath mine own. Humans are strange creatures I muse as I pull away, while pressing my talons into the gaping wound of his belly, drawing his internal ropes through the small hole with a yank.
They tumble to the ground at his bound feet, in an outpouring of vile lifeforce, tumbling into a pile. Prey is most appreciative, howling his agony to the sky, the empty sockets in his head glowing crimson in the firelight. I whisper to him that he may go to the clearing once he has gained his perspective, the error of his ways. He spits in my face, brave creature he is shouting his innocence to the laughter of my companions behind me. It amuses me that he believes this is so, shaking my head in disbelief, and slam my fist into his chest cavity, shattering the cage of his ribs to reach his heart. My talons sink thickly into the beating organ, feeling his lifewater flow over my hand in an almost too hot rush.
I rip it free of its moorings, pulling it free of its fleshy confines, still beating, yet slowing. Slowing as I inhale Prey’s final essence into my body. It is sugared agony, the thoughts of his life trapped in each drop, a treat that tingles in my mind and on my tongue. It stopped beating as it took its first breath in the chilled air. I turn to Raven and Rowan, dropping his blackened crimson organ to the dirt at my feet. “Perspective,” Raven muses as Rowan approaches Prey’s shell, her tone questioning.
Rowan is inspecting the remains of prey, her inner struggle obvious. She touches him with a shaky hand, tears forming in her eyes. Maiden is right, the witches of this place will not be happy. I am more concerned with the disposal of preys body. We can’t leave him hanging from a tree in the courtyard, that would be ill-advised.
We are discussing what to do when hear it, the awful sound of flesh tearing. Rowan has removed her treasure. She holds it in her hand, studying it. She closes her eyes, reciting strange words into the air. Her head drops and she places her memento into the satchel she wears around her waist, slowly making her way to us.
We determine fire will be the best way to dispose of what’s left of prey. Rowan can cast a spell to hide the odor of burning flesh. Maiden gathers wood, placing into the pit on top of the remnants of the fire Rowan had made earlier. I release prey from his shackles, an invisible hand holding him in place as the barbed metal recoils from around him. I move him to the fire, dropping him atop the flames.
Rowan goes about casting her spells, protection against anyone finding our little den. I turn to Maiden, wishing to discuss what will happen when the others discover the changes in Rowan. The witches of this place are peaceful, choosing to live in harmony with the land and all its creatures, they are not going to be happy. Maiden agrees, there will be a heavy price to pay. Unsure of how long it will be before they discover what has happened, we must formulate a plan. Do we include Rowan? Surely we aren’t sending her back to them, they will do unspeakable things to her once she’s discovered.
Maiden calls to her, come let us go inside, clean ourselves up and discuss tonight’s lesson. I put my arm around Rowan’s shoulder, hugging her as we ascend the stairs. Maiden and Scythe follow us into the home. Jar is placed on the mantle with the others. We take seats at the table, Rowan is the first to speak. She knows that her coven will not be pleased. They will sense the changes in her, they will come for us. Yes us, Maiden may have taught the lessons, but I will be just as guilty in their eyes.
We decide that, for tonight, Rowan will cast a spell, one that will conceal us from any that stray too close. Tomorrow, once we are rested, we will decide how we will proceed from here.
Death Maiden and Raven
Go Rate The Orphan Killer and Give It The Top Rating It Deserves
Theres a humming in my ear
In my head, low pitched
It makes my skull buzz
Eyes rattle and shudder
Crept past defenses laid out
Cerebral duct tape failed
to capture this intruder in my head
Sirens didn’t sound
Wires were tripped, I felt it
As each one sprung
I’ll find you, sneaky creature
My mind is not as large
As it appears
It’s all an Illusion, Delusion
Nothing is what it seems
Funhouse mirrors refraction
Prismatic reflections I see you Creature
Cowering in the Lightest corner
I see the Light searing your flesh
Tiny tendrils of smoke drift on the air
All is not Darkness here
I bottle Light, store it up
For days when the Abyss is close
Growling its good humour as my own fled
It’s effects though small dosed
Keep my Monsters at bay
My heart craves the Dark
The total absence of Light
Where I can hide, in the shadows
Watch as life plays out its
cruel comedies, its happy scenes
Come, Creature, step free of the light
Let me inspire you to Slay, to Love
To Kill a thousand times
and smile as our world swirls around you
embracing your mind, licking deep
Coaxing and leading you
To step into the Lighter Dark
Feel the sun and breathe
With no fear of fading away
There is no Light
Without the Darkness
One cannot exist without the other
Those born into the Light are born blind
They cannot see the pulchritude
of the shadows that lurk on the edges
The importance of symmetry
Whether we deny or embrace
it matters not, we are one in the same
I am one those serripetous shadows
The ones that bleed into your mind
Taking the Love you hold to your breast
Holding it captive as I paint it darker
A deeper red, pulsating crimson
I am the doubt that lives as you write
The ones that complicate your mind
Distorting the vision in behind your eyes
I can’t help myself, Darkness is what it is
I am the Thunder to your Rainbows
The lightening strike that cuts
Your feelings to the bone, flayed
Bear witness to the slices to the soul
I am sorry for the Darkness
Envious of the LIght
Covetous and ill at ease
With the ease of occilation
Between the Sun and the Night
A Darker Love
Thunder and Rainbows
Sun and the Night
Doubt and Confidence
Darkness and Light
Why say I love you.
It’s so mundane
Words are meant to move
You, in all ways
I hand you my heart
Broken and glued
Scarred with life’s travels
Incomplete, until I found you
Why say I’m sad
It sounds as an untruth
Sadness is profound
Not so plain
I am filled with the screams
Of a thousand lost souls
I cry not tears
But my heart weeps from my eyes
Why say you are happy
It’s a generic term
Happy is so much more
My soul soars as an eagle
The sun shining bright
My cup runneth over
Why say you are mad.
It does not do justice
To the boiling fury
That burns inside
The rage that leaks
From the cracks of my
Black heart is venomous
Enough to eat your flesh
And melt your bones Why say you are lonely
Though it may be true
To be lost in plain sight
A fading vision Alone in a crowd
A ghost in my world
I’d reach out my hand
But who’s there to see Why say you hurt?
What does that mean?
It’s a small word used
To deaden the pain
Huddled and naked
Scream in my throat
Cut with many knives
With no voice to bleed
Why say you are afraid?
Sure you have fear
But does it describe
What you really feel?
I cannot breathe
I can only scream
From my eyes
And rend the air with my terror
Eloquence lends its essence
To us all, a hand to hold
Upon our Journeys
Gifts us the words
To move those around us
To romance the words
Make them dance
Touch the soul of another
The embrace of the eyes
Edges that flay your flesh
Shredding your heart
Or lifting your soul
To inspire and respire
A Muse on your shoulder
Eloquence, She provides
Allow me to introduce my son, Sam Boutin. He is nearly 12 and is a constant source of pride to me and his father. He also has Asperger’s Syndrome, and has struggled with the written word since the first time he grasped a crayon. Years of work has brought us to this place. He wrote this piece at school. This marks a significant leap in his abilities.
I am so proud to share with you, his first foray into the world in which we create and reinvent ourselves everyday. Please, feast your eyes upon Dragon
In a kingdom as big as the eye can see, there was a man named Leonidas. Leonidas was the King’s greatest warrior and mage in the land.
He had friends and a great family. Everybody liked him. He was happy as he walked around he kingdom with the King, as protection, a normal day for him, and he thought nothing could go wrong…but little did he know everything was about to change.
Meanwhile, in a cave, there was a devious man named Vlatidor, and he hated Leonidas because everybody liked him. He matched Leonidas’ power and skills, and felt he got nothing, so he hatched a plan. He mind controlled a dragon, and with the power in his hands, he ordered the dragon to destroy the kingdom.
Suddenly Leonidas heard an ear-splitting roar and huge wing beats that shook the largest houses. Leonidas readied his sword for battle but he was in shock as a gigantic Hydra blasted down to the ground and crushed a house nearby.
Leonidas watched as the soldiers chopped the beast’s heads off, but they didn’t know that when you chop a Hydra’s head off it grows two more to replace it. Now the Hydra had 6 heads and it decimated all of the soldiers as their blood splattered all over the burnt down houses.
As he watched his friends and family die, he had had enough. He charged at the evil creature but it swept him back and bent to bite him, and then Leonidas blacked out.
He struggled to get up when he realized everything was gone, including his leg, and dragged himself to what was left of the blacksmith’s shop. He found a mechanical leg on the floor, and thought “Just what I need,” and tried to put it on. Finally he managed and stood up, taking a walk to look for survivors. He searched and searched until he came to his senses, knowing there was no one. He was the only survivor of the attack.
Leonidas clenched his fist in anger and his face turned read like a tomato and shouted in rage, “DRAGON I WILL FIND YOU AND I WILL KILL YOU!!!”
As he set off on his adventure, he knew it was going to be tough. He had to first venture through the Undead Forest, then through Serpent River, and finally to the Dragon’s cave to find he beast and kill it.
Leonidas made it to the entrance to the Undead Forest, and he stepped in swiftly and quietly. He had to be quiet because the undead might hear him and try to kill him. The Hero crept past the dark forest but little did he know he was being followed. He turned to see and as he did a huge hoard of flesh eating zombies closed in behind him.
He was shocked to see The Army of The Undead so close, but he was brave and charged them like a marauding bull. Leonidas lifted his sword and charged into battle, and it shined brighter than the sun. As he took a swing it shot a beam of light that struck each and every one of them, chopping them into smithereens.
As the light dimmed, he opened his eyes. The forest and the Undead were gone. “Well, that’s one way to do it, ” he thoughts as he strolled, stopping dead when he saw the Serpent River. Rumour had it that the river had a real Naga, a sea serpent. Leonidas believed it so he walked around the bend, watching the river flow. A giant Naga burst out of the water, lunging at him. Thanks to his quick thinking, he cast a shielding spell to protect himself, but the Naga had charged again and it broke the spell.
Leonidas knew what to do, finally he drew his bow and it lit up like fire, and shot right through the Serpent’s eye as it dove towards him. Its blood gushed so fast it soon pooled at his feet. He went to its corpse and pulled the arrow out of its mutilated eye socket. Leonidas ventured forth only so far as to see the Dragon’s cave. “This is it,” he said, “it all ends here.”
He needed to rest, but lunged for the rocky wall, and began to scale the gargantuan mountain. When he reached half way, he peered around for a place to lay down and rest. There was a cave nearby and he crawled in and sighed. Leonidas pulled out a picture of his friends and family, observing their faces, when a gigantic spider dropped down and jumped at him!! Then he heard a growl, and from that growl came an ear-splitting roar that scared the spider away.
Leonidas rushed to that sound, coming to a stop when he saw it. The dragon, roaring louder than ever before, and a human’s shout, saying “Shut it you brute!” He peered and watched as the Dragon was whipped and beaten. He had had enough, and was about to charge when he saw a dark collar on the Dragon’s neck. It was being controlled. Leonidas pulled his bow from behind him, its back glowing with fire, knocked the arrow and shot the collar, splitting it in two.
The Dragon flew away as the man turned and spotted Leonidas. “Ah, if it isn’t the great warrior and wizard Leonidas. I have to ask how it feels to lose everything, your friends, your family. How does it feel?”
“Who are you and why do you want to know,” Leonidas asked.
“Oh how rude of me. I am Vlatidor, your opposite. I controlled the Dragon. I destroyed your home. I killed your friends and family. Now it is just us.”
Leonidas nodded, drawing his sword as Vlatidor drew his own, and it glowed brighter than before as Vlatidor’s dimmed with darkness. The two men clashed swords, the sounds of metal meeting echoing in the cave. Two beams of light shot out of the sword’s tips, one darkness and one light. The beams collided in the air between them, and exploding in a puff of smoke. Leonidas smiled a satisfied smile as he plunged his sword between Vlatidor’s eyes. His skull flowed rivers of his black tainted blood onto the ground as he disintegrated into a pile of dust. It was over. Leonidas had won.
Leonidas left to travel by sea I search of a new land, a fresh start, and a way to leave the bad memories behind him. He would always remember all the good times with his friends and loved ones, and he was sure the past would come back to haunt him.
Back in the cave, where the battle had commenced and completed, the pile of dust that had been Vlatidor was reforming. He opened his eyes and whispered, “I’ll get my revenge Leonidas. I will. ”
“These are not small creatures that roam the trees and play in the fallen leaves. I peek over the edge. Nearly scream. We are surrounded. We are trapped. The Posse is here. So is The Door.”
I see now why they are called the Lunatic Posse. They are all raving psychopaths. They strut and stumble. I’m reminded of clumsy birds, the way their heads move, their limbs. All yelling a jumble of words that don’t fit together, with the occasional cuss thrown in. All mindless and starving. And fast. Meeting one you could survive if you were faster. We wouldn’t stand a chance against a pack of 50.
He notices finally, able to see through the floorboards that we are truly stuck. We have cover, the walls of the blind hide our existence from the monsters outside. There are small holes in the wood that we can see distances. And The Door.
It bothers, niggling at the back of my mind like a rat in a trap. It follows me. I can hear the voices again. Calling my name. Siren Song. His hand is on mine and I look away, to find my own grasping the handle to the trap door. I’m afraid, and he sees it.
Above us the birds resting in the branches startle. They fly in a flurry of wings. There is a sound, a not-there sound. My bones and teeth are vibrating. I press my eye to the rifle hole and draw back quickly. Impossible. My mind reels slightly and I press again to the view happening outside our box.
The Door is ajar, just slightly. It wavers in the breeze, the air putrid with the scent of unwashed bodies and infection. They are, after all, essentially human. He shifts behind me, movement barely a whisper, yet a glare at him. I watch as he presses the side of his face to the rifle hole closest to him and see him cringe, biting his lip and clenching his fists. He understands now. Damn. Crying again.
My teeth are vibrating. My whole face feels as though my skull and jaw were trying to escape the confines of my skin. Hard to breathe. I pull back quickly and huddle close to him, dragging his ear down so that my lips are nearly touching it. I tell him we are trapped. And we can’t move. Breathe little, no noise. That I don’t know how long we will be here. He tries to pull away but I hold him closer, my fists clenched in his light jacket, and hold his eyes. There can be no misconceptions or misunderstandings. Like it or not, we may die here.
That not-there sound is there, hanging in the thick air like a blanket. I can almost see it. It shimmers in the light like heat on the summer highway. The Door is open more now. One of The Posse is standing in front of it. Yelling it’s nonsense at it and stabbing its finger in the air, its tip touching its wood each time. I feel his hand on my shoulder, squeezing gently and I jerk in response, shrugging it off. He does it again. This time feels like urgency and I glance over. He points to his eyes, then down.
There is a member of The Posse directly below us. Staring at us. I force my breath to slow. They can hear us, our blood rushing in our veins. Maybe our Aliveness, our humanity. It holds my stare, its mouth moving silently, forming words that make no sense. And walks away. I watch as it moves out of view, and look up to stare at my companion. He is confused as well. I shift slightly to press my eye against the wood wall, tracking the progress of this strange harbinger. The Lunatic Posse. They are Lunatics. Even to the way they shuffle when they walk. This pack is different, or maybe the lack of proper incentive has put them into a hibernation of sorts.
The Door slams shut, the noise an explosion that sends another, though further away, ruckus of birds into the air. I watch as the pack freezes, and each head turns in unison towards the house that I had blown up, the flames still ravaging the hull. They move into the shadows, several hiding behind the Door itself. That’s when I see them. A group, 10 or more, creeping along the road that lead to the house. There is no way we can save them. No means of escape for them. And no way for us to avoid having to watch what comes next. I motion with my hand for my companion to come closer. A tough lesson to have to learn. But he still doesn’t understand. I’ve watched him staring off into the distance, towards the river, eyes far away. Calculating his chances. 99 to 1, not in his favor. I’ve seen them kill
The group is coming towards our little copse, their voices carrying on the wind to us. Small snippets of conversations. The sound of normalcy. The Posse hears them too, some crouching lower like animals about to spring on their prey. The one that saw us is back. Standing underneath our blind and staring up at me. Its muttering words that almost make sense. Go. There. Run. Soon. She points towards the river, at the break in the trees. A hard fast run, with luck on our side, would take us there in minutes. If we could get past these things. I nod, and she wanders off again, a little deeper into the shadows.
The group are standing by The Door, their excited voices ringing in the silence. Don’t they notice the unnatural quiet? Not even the crickets are chirping. One touches The Door, his hand stained the bright red of a freshly spilled blood. He looks at it, curious but not afraid. My companion shakes my shoulder, pointing to the shadows. The Creatures are coming closer, smiling too big smiles on lips that stretch too far and split, spilling a flood of gore from their mouths. Its nothing I’ve ever seen before and I’m too horrified to even scream.
In an instant they are on the group, all converging as one on the hapless travellers that came upon this horror show. There is no sounds but for the sound of body parts being torn apart. My companion throws open the trap door and jumps down, motioning me to come, NOW. I do. I jump and land on my feet, running towards the river without looking back. I can’t look back. Freedom is close, I can hear it, feel it with every impact my feet make on the ground. Fence ahead. I can leap it. I’m not stopping. I hear moment behind me. It could be one of the Posse. It could be my companion. I’ll look after the fence. Made it.
I turn and see my companion leap the fence as well. I feel relief, and fear. They must be still feeding. I see no Lunatic anywhere around. We pant as we walk, trying to gain back some air so that if we must run, we can. I hear voices at the riverside, and glance at my companion quickly. He is unnerved as well. He takes my hand, squeezes hard, and picks up the pace. I have to follow. He still holds my hand.
There is noise behind us, slight, just a rustle but it sets my teeth on edge. It won’t be long now. They will notice. They always do. The river’s edge is visible now. There are men along the beach, all nervous and heavily armed. I hesitate, pulling back slightly. My companion looks back at me, stopping to pull me to him, and smiles into my eyes. The men notice us. I’m afraid, almost ready to take my chances with the Lunatic Posse, when I am pulled forward. Joyful, yet muted shouts reach us and my companion releases me, running to them as a brother would. These are his brothers.
My companion salutes his….friend…Brother…superior? My train of thought is interrupted by shrieks of rage and cursing. We’ve been found out. I run towards them, screaming to get us out of here. They are coming. I’m thrown into the boat, as the rest of the men jump in and rev the engine to life. The boats pull too slowly from the shore as the Lunatic Posse overrun the short hill leads to the river.
I watch as we pull away, speeding upriver away from danger, for now. Everything is in slow motion, and I turn to watch the shore. They stand there, their voices irate, just far enough from the reach of the water. They don’t like water. I hear the name Evan, and turn to the conversation. My companion sits beside me, his hand out and looking at me expectantly. His name is Evan. I shake his hand, offering my own.
As though to scribe
Ink gathering at the tip
Shining in the light
And still I hold
I wait, hoping for
Goddess to smile
To feed me the inspiration
Sweetest dew to the leaves
Sugared water from the heavens
The tangy scent of blood in the air
From the Apothecary
Of the imagination
I see them there
Hooded figures three
Burning in effigy
The photos of youth
Destroying the past
So that they can be reborn
Into the Darkness
Bathed in the Light
The transformed images
They scream in the mist
Rage at being lost, banished
As the flames reach higher
This is a place of rest
Where the icicles rise
From the deep Earth
Shards of spirits
Ghastly garden of
Where the slightest fragrance
Of corruption mingles
Intertwines with the breath
Of offerings passing by
Only I see
As I stand sentinel
Hands outstretched in
Eyes to the sky
And yet I see
The abomination that exists
In this time, this space
As they howl their lost tongues
To the moonless sky
All is lost, fallen silent
Homes of the Dead
“A last glance, out the window where the Lunatic Posse gather before the Door. Distracted. I ease open the back door. Alone. I Run.”
I run, straight on and fast as my weary legs will carry me. I don’t look around, sparing only the slightest glace for where I am going. Ahead there is a copse of trees. Dangerous place for me. They like the darkness. Places like that could be teeming with them. But until today, I’ve seen no other Members of the Lunatic Posse here. I could be safe.
I hear them now. The noise they make carries on the wind. It sounds so final, in this empty world. I might be alone. I might be the only normal person left. That frightens me more than the scream of rage I hear again. The female. Denied her meal. Good. Starve.
Almost to the treeline. I glance around me now, unsure of what I am looking for, but sure I will see it if it bears seeing. Barbed wire fence, nearly hidden in the tall overgrowth of grasses. Caught on that, I’m a meal for the taking. Someone was. There is a corpse bound in the metal barbs, its mouth open in a silent scream. The Posse was here. This poor creature was torn limb from limb. Literally. Its arm hangs nearby from the fence by its sleeve. Still attached.
The house explodes. Now it will bring the rest. I had no choice. Mindless. Anyone with half a brain wouldn’t have touched those bottles. It proves my point. They are no longer human. No longer capable of cohesive thought. Just the single minded desire to destroy. I turned the tables. I’ll pay at some point. They don’t forget. Not so mindless. They can be taught.
In the trees now. It’s quiet, like an ancient burial ground. Here and there the tiny creeping movements of squirrels in the trees. I hate those damn things. But I’m glad enough for proof of life. There is an old, gnarled tree ahead. Puts me to mind of a dark fairy tale. Fairy tales. I’m so tired. In its branches there is a blind. I could sleep there. Relatively safe, but for the animals. I can live that that.
I am afraid. There are footsteps here. I climb the tree with agility I thought I’d lost. In terror I suppose we remember many things. The blind was well made, hidden nearly completely from view, but allowing those using it incredible long range sight. My body weeps for rest. Not yet. I have to see what is stalking these woods.
Closer. I think. It’s hard to tell, the sound carries. The roar of the pyre that was once my sanctuary is loud. Roars like an animal. Fire is an animal. Ravenous. It bites. Footsteps directly below me. I hold my breath. It won’t help. They smell you long before they hear or see you. It paused. Right. Below. Me. Hateful tears. I don’t dare move to wipe them away.
A breathy gasp. Quiet mumbling. Not a Posse member. HUMAN! I lean carefully over the edge. There is room for two. For the night. A man stands there. Obviously exhausted as I am. I make a noise and he glances up. And climbs. He could be as dangerous as the Lunatic Posse. I’m able to kill. If I must.
His story is like mine. Caught out. Lost his love. They ate her while she lived. Sadistic bastards. A group of three. I wonder if it was the three I just killed off. If so, judgement was done. He weeps as he tells me. He needs to turn that off. No emotion means survival.
I lay down. My body can’t hold itself up anymore. Wish my mind would shut off. Take me away to that dark fairy tale where nothing and everything has light. Enchanted trees…..
I wake in the hours before dawn. The dark is lighter. Shadows less deep. No sounds. Arms around me. I should move away. But it feels good. I’m starved for affection of any sort. And so I stay, eyes open and mind wandering. He mumbles in my ear, and I startle. His voice. It rattles like the chains in my dreams. He said my name. I didn’t tell him.
Afraid again. I need to move away, but I’m trapped by his embrace. My attempts to wriggle away only cause him to pull me tighter to his body. It’s warm. Torn. He knows my name, that’s cause enough to be scared, but he’s warm and I’ve been so cold.
The beginning of the end for we humans was so small. A nothing event. A vaccine. Concocted by our government to battle the flu that was ravaging our culture. Millions dead worldwide. They compared it to the Black Death. People scrambled to get it. Not I. It stank of corruption. It screamed danger. I refused. So did my man. Thank God we did. Or I’d be one of those. I’d rather die.
He’s awake, still mumbling in my ear. Ramblings of a madman, or truth, I’m not sure. But the fire in my belly is a hunger I’d forgotten since the world died. I look at him, over my shoulder and his lips find mine. The fire is an inferno. It blazes with the heat of Hell as he enters my body with his stiffness. Memories of days with my Love flood my mind, those loving nights. I hit my peak fast, as does he. This was fulfilling a need, not for comfort. Just as well.
There are sounds around us now. Day has broken over the horizon. He speaks, loud, and I hush him with my finger. These are not good sounds. These are not small creatures that roam the trees and play in the fallen leaves. I peek over the edge. Nearly scream. We are surrounded. We are trapped. The Posse is here. So is The Door.
It just appeared. It wasn’t there and then it was, its wood surface scarred with the claw marks of some beast, or someone trying to escape the confines of whatever circle of Hell they were trapped in. I haven’t gone near it yet. It hums and whispers, like ghosts in the halls of the dead, its handle shuddering and turning frustrated half circles.
What lies beyond I don’t know, but it calls to me, calls me by name, rattling like chains in my dreams at night, seeping into the circle of thoughts that roam the darkened rooms in my mind. I’m meant to know what is there, the bloody handprints and scratches upon its scarred surface say so. But I’m afraid. More afraid than anyone could ever guess.
It stands in the trees, far back from the house I currently reside in. In these days of my life, in the relative solitude of the world, it was the safest place, away from the crazy people, survivors and madmen both. I thought I was insane, sure of it in the days following the end of the world, the weeks of travelling by night, creeping in the shadows and cold in the dark, until I found this place, free of the senseless violence that broke out.
There is a member of the lunatic posse outside, wandering through the dusk, voicing its mindless chatter. If you didn’t know, if you weren’t aware of the social breakdown, he might sound normal. Certainly it speaks words, strings them together as any human capable of speech could, but its voice is raspy, guttural and the strings of words it makes are jumbled. That’s how you know.
There’s more. Now they are a trio, slobbering and snarling around the Door, heads cocked at the whispers that emanate from the keyhole, their grimy hands poking and caressing the peeling paint that still clings to its surface. The paint chips fall like snow, small shards of what was. When we had a future. If there are other survivors, we could put the world to rights, with luck on our side.
Mindless. Slobbering idiots all, their clothes torn and stained with the blood of the unlucky ones caught out when they passed by. Ravenous killers the Lunatic Posse are. I saw what they can do, in a group, lost my love when they caught us moving from one side of the road to the other.
They caught him, human hands with inhuman strength, his flesh splitting and running blood like a piece of meat through a grinder. The others, they battened on him, tearing into his side, with their teeth, one had his face buried in him, the other, she was before him, on her knees and burrowing into his stomach, tearing with her nails, yanking until his guts tumbled onto the pavement.
I ran then. As hard and fast as I could, I didn’t look back, couldn’t look back. He screamed my name, it ended in a gurgle; I assume they tore his throat out, but I don’t know for sure. I didn’t look back. I should have looked back.
Damn, I’m crying again. I hate these things, destructors of life, of the living. They don’t kill all life. Animals seem safe, some of them anyway. Livestock goes untouched, birds of any sort as well. Domestic animals too. Just humans, it seems. These, things. They bear no changes to their features, no growth of pointed incisors or claws instead of fingers, no rotting flesh nor wolfish fur. No, they look human. If you didn’t know, you wouldn’t think they were monsters. They are.
The lone Posse female is staring directly where I sit, its eyes ticking back and forth, nostrils flaring as it watches. I dare not breathe, move, think…It senses me. The other two, continue their mindless search for answers, their jerky movements and arm waving as they shout jumbled curses and mutterings at one another. It watches, its eyes on mine through the darkness and opaque curtains that block the inside from view. That’s another thing. The Lunatic Posse don’t sleep, never rest, and never stop hunting for survivors. We thinking beings were top of the food chain. Now we are food. For the biggest baddest killers that roam the Earth.
It screams, its mouth open wider than should be capable, wider than a human could stretch and it screams, tongue vibrato in its maw. It hurts my ears, its high pitched rage making my eyes water, and freezing my breath in my chest. Molten rage, not the flowing honey of the norm. Normal doesn’t exist here anymore. No this is a killing scream. It knows I am here. I have to leave my safe haven. The only sense of civility I’ve had in weeks. I don’t know if I can make it. I have to make it, they will be in here soon, and I have to be gone.
The Door. The handle is rattling again. I can see it from here, the bloody handprints growing deeper and oozing crimson in long drips, seeping from the wood. I lean forward, closer to the window. Dangerous game I play but I have to see. The female, swipes one of her Posse away with a slash of her nails, opening a gash in its cheek. It does not bleed. It’s still essentially human, why doesn’t it bleed?
It pulls its eyes from where I sit, reluctantly it seems, turning to the shivering Door. It does shiver, quaking in its frame, the chips of paint flying off in shards. If I had a key. If I could know that I’d survive the other side of that Door. If I could get past the Lunatic Posse. A key. I’d go. I’d even risk getting torn apart as my Love did, to get away from these abhorrent monstrosities.
I creep from the window, gathering my belongings, few of which were unpacked since my arrival. I’m grateful for it now. A last glance, out the window where the Lunatic Posse gather before the Door. Distracted. I ease open the back door. Alone. I Run