Blood Lust

One stands utterly still in darkness only lit by a full moon obscured by eerie clouds, drifting slowly across the moon’s path. Nothing moves, not even a gentle breeze exists in this place that has been painted black. Sound does not enter one’s ears; quiet has overcome its presence, it makes one feel deafened by silence. Still one stands motionless awaiting that sudden sound created by human presence. One awaits hidden in the gloomy shadows created by edifices created by man to provide safety; how wrong they were. Something moves making the gravelled paths crunch like breaking bones. Their heart beats loudly, their veins protrude teasing one to strike but one must wait, one must not be too hasty or all will be revealed at the wrong moment; timing is vital. The sound steadily grows louder; the creature is in the vicinity of my presence, the smell of its blood is potent enticing one to lust its precious gift of life that flows through its body. It passes the edifice that creates the shadows one is hidden in; one has stricken without warning. Blood pours in to one’s mouth through the harsh wound now upon the creature’s neck, it warms one’s dead heart making it beat only for moments. The creature squirms endlessly; pointless and futile, it becomes sluggish and grey, one stops and pauses; the creature dropped with a heavy thump, it was a man. One breathes heavily; blood drips sinisterly down on to one’s chin whilst peering at the now dead man lying on the ground in a twisted way; its bones snapped and protruding through raw muscle. One has killed, stolen innocence and still the blood lust grows, like perverted roots that never stop expanding deeper in to earth; that is where one truly belongs, buried beneath, trapped, alone and with nothing but hunger for all eternity.