All Nonfiction
- Bullying
- Books
- Academic
- Author Interviews
- Celebrity interviews
- College Articles
- College Essays
- Educator of the Year
- Heroes
- Interviews
- Memoir
- Personal Experience
- Sports
- Travel & Culture
All Opinions
- Bullying
- Current Events / Politics
- Discrimination
- Drugs / Alcohol / Smoking
- Entertainment / Celebrities
- Environment
- Love / Relationships
- Movies / Music / TV
- Pop Culture / Trends
- School / College
- Social Issues / Civics
- Spirituality / Religion
- Sports / Hobbies
All Hot Topics
- Bullying
- Community Service
- Environment
- Health
- Letters to the Editor
- Pride & Prejudice
- What Matters
- Back
Summer Guide
- Program Links
- Program Reviews
- Back
College Guide
- College Links
- College Reviews
- College Essays
- College Articles
- Back
A soul as dark as blood
A soul as dark as blood
The woman looks at the family smiling all together, happy, dead. She does not think of the pain they went threw as she slit there fragile throats with a meticulous slice of her dagger. She does not think of the family they lost. Nor, the dreams that simply left their there bodies as she carried out her murderous act. No, she thinks of the blood running down the white kitchen tiles. Like a stream crossing a barren plain. She thinks of their cold, glassy eyes staring at a world they may not see anymore. And finally, she thinks of their flesh. Oh, their beautiful, sweet, glorious flesh. How her eyes burn with an internal flame of hunger, of craving, yes an unbearable craving. The woman bends down waiting for the moment when she may devourer them, slowly. Savoring every last bit of their flesh; letting their cool, crimson blood flow down her dry throat. But first, she must feed the one. Yes, she must feed the one. But, a dark and dangerous thought slowly flutters into her mind. Like a dark storm cloud whose sole goal is to block the guiding glimmer of the moon. The thought asks her a single question. Why not take a bite, if the one is all mighty can he not hunt for himself? She thinks about it. Why not give up to the temptation? She has not satisfied her hunger in weeks. She creeps her feminine lips closer to the neck of the female child. How lonely she looks with those blank eyes, how dead. She takes a bite of the flesh and shivers. Not of dread, not of fear, nor disgust, or repulsion. But of content; an animal like content, an unnatural joy, a mad fascination, an exotic temptation. But suddenly, the room turns dark as the one appears before her.
The one looks upon her with its dark cold eyes. The one does not show any of his feelings, any of his thoughts. No. he appears as dead as the family on the floor. He looks upon her and smiles.
“What a shame to lose such a precious hunter. But, other hunters will be found, my daughter. I shall now have to condemn you to the pits of despair. Have fun.”
The one laughs a cruel harsh sound, like the laughing barks of hyenas as they torture their meal. But the woman will not be laughed at. No, a deadly hate buried deep into her heart emerges; looking only for a single thing, revenge. She looks up at the one; her eyes promising, a single action, his death. The one looks back at her and smiles.
“I knew you were not going to leave without a fight, my daughter. I will enjoy eating your flesh after your demise.”
The woman smiles back. The arrogant fool, he does not know how powerful she is. He does not know how deadly she is. She utters a word in a tongue not known to man, not known to me, and disappears in a blanket of shadows. She is invisible to the world as she glides slowly towards the one. He looks around in shock not understanding, not believing, what he had seen only seconds ago. The woman stops only a hairs breath from the one; and pulls out her dagger and stabs him in the heart. The one crumples down slowly to the floor moaning of his death. The woman glances at her fallen enemy and smiles, no one messes with the woman with the soul as dark as blood. She walks back up to the female child and wipes the blood of the one off her dagger, and onto her pale, violet night gown. She thinks of the child and wonders. Had it ever felt the joy of cutting loose of its chains? Had it ever felt the joy of surpassing its fears? She looks upon the child; it was too young to have felt any deep joy. Its life had only been filled of superficial happiness, superficial hate. A single tear adventures its self onto her cheek as she morns for the child’s life. How dare she take the life of the child? It had had no chance to live, to discover, to love. She would give her life to the child. But, it would be unhappy without its family. She could not imagine the shock it would have as it woke up surrounded by its smiling, slaughter family. She did not want to bring that pain to the child. No, that would be a cruelty. She could only promise the child’s body to no longer kill to survive. She would rather die. Funny, she thought as she remembered the thought of happiness as she had killed the child and its family. How ones opinion can change in such a little amount of time. How ones opinion can change in such an immense amount of death, seven deaths in a single night. How she regretted her actions, how she regretted her previous delights. She walks out of the death filled home. She deserves only death doesn’t she? Or does she deserve to live so she can try and undo her wrongdoings? She ponders on that thought; she should not put to waste the rest of her life by giving her self the gift of death. No, she should use the rest of her life for the doing of good. A man passes by her on the sidewalk. How tender his skin looks. No, she can not fall to the temptation, she must not kill. She must remember the child. The man smiles kindly, and offers her a good day. Oh, he is asking for death. The woman pounces, kicking the man to the ground. The woman sits on her haunches licking her lips like the panther waiting to finish off its prey. But, she remembers the female child’s eyes, the empty eyes. A glimmer of hope crosses the woman’s mind. To have blood you do not need to kill she remembers. The woman brandishes her dagger, takes the man’s arm and cuts. The man’s blood pours into her mouth sweet and savory like the bitter juice of the wild berry. Beware of the woman with the soul as dark as blood.
Similar Articles
JOIN THE DISCUSSION
This article has 2 comments.
14 articles 0 photos 7 comments