Ravings of a lunatic that thinks hes smart

Dappled light falls onto pale white skin, skin that reflects the light back into every corner of the dark forest. The strange creature seems to float through the air, barely touching on the ground at its feet, ethereal in their appearance.

But the eyes are what really attracted you to this strange creature, this thing that seemed to throw light out like a cloak against the cold. The eyes seemed to suck in the light, pull it away from the living and draw it in to itself and cast it through its skin. Swirling pools of gold that instead of being like a sun you think they would be, they are like dull, dead, pits of forgotten souls and mutilated bodies of sinners.

This beautiful being seemed to go to the brightest parts of the forest and make them feel like crypts, hollow empty and cold. And the more light it sucked out the more its movements became quick and sudden, jerking around before becoming smooth motion. Its steps eating up the ground like a man starved for a month finally given as much food as he can eat death with.

What will he decide will he chew his way through his own stomach so he suffocates on half chewed vestiges of food or will he take things in moderation, slowly, slowly, slowly taking bites of the ends, staring at it till it seems his eyes will dry up. Never under estimate a person’s blind desire, but also never under estimate their survival instinct even when they are insane. Run, run, run to ruin and run again. Dull golden orbs of death echo you’re every footstep. Hide, hide, hide in a ditch made of hate and let him pass over if only for a day.

He is coming for you. He will not give up. He is at your feet. But he is up above. The slithering of his clothes over plants. The soft crackle of dry dead leaves barely touched. The swaying of branches being parted. Is this terrifying enough? So run, and keep on running till your lungs burst and your heart stops, when your feet are bleeding it’s not enough. He is at your back now and he will never give up, you can see the light through the trees and he is not even moving fast. Can you see his eyes yet? Those dark pools of lust? Dull golden death seeking your heart.

This entry was posted on Sunday, October 31st, 2010 at 10:23 pm and is filed under Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.