PATIENCE is a peculiar thing for it has its advantages and disadvantages. Did I mention it had a mind of it’s own? That was one of its disadvantages…
EYES from the skies drift down to gaze upon a monstrous sight. Moon slinking slowly behind the thin clouds as if to watch whilst remaining hidden from view. Light streams from the thin sections of the clouds themselves, thin tendrils attempting to fight off the shadows that cling to his flesh, but the actions are futile and before long the darkness snuffs out the light. The crimson liquid has already begun to dry upon his pelt, crystallizing like a memory until he finds the desire to go out and wash it away. That was rare though, for the cannibal liked to bathe in his sins, not disperse in them. His sick mind had granted him a strange delight in wearing the blood of others like trophies to his ways. He flaunted his deeds, refusing to hide them to please society. He could give a rat’s ass what any others thought for if their very opinion was voiced they would simply become the next crimson stain upon such a glorious pelt. His mentality was shattered, his heart nonexistent and this, this is why he was at the very top of the food chain; literally.
SOMETHING draws him from his mentality. The first mistake already being made. The beast shifts from the façade and breaks away from his calmness. A low growl emanates from his chest, reverberating through the hushed woodland. His body ignites like a flame but not in the way a normal male’s might. She has interrupted his feast, broken his first code and she is still coming. Lips curl back against bloodstained teeth as head raises above her. Silver specked crystals peer at her coldly, confused at her stupid bravery. She draws near, so very near and in such a way as if he is a ghost. She looks through him as if he is not there and for the briefest of moments, the monster pauses. The wind shifts, invisible fingers stroking his spine and causing him to dig his talons into the flesh of the boy. Still he waits, until she draws far too close for comfort. Her perfume slides from her pelt and into an ebony nose, nostrils flaring as the mixture of death and female seduces his calm. Cold hues slide along her body slowly, taking in the sight of her lightly muscled frame and average build. She was pretty, he would admit, but he could care less what the hell she looked like. Females were not food for to him they were far too weak to kill. The fight would bore him, the effort he would make not even causing him to sweat. If he wanted to, he would have in any shape he desired…
LYRICS spill from her as she faces him, her head turning towards him but still, her eyes look through him. The world pauses, fear sliding from invisible bodies as life itself pauses in anticipation. His own hunger driven consciousness demands for him to attack swiftly, demands for him to take advantage of this opportunity and grant himself a kill that would last weeks if hidden correctly. It is the years of control, the years of experience that saves her for more than just seconds. His rigged body moves away from her, unable to inhale the thick aroma of her gender. Behind the shadows he slinks, allowing the darkness to envelop him in their grasp. From within the small cover, cold irises latch onto her form, tongue sliding out to lap greedily at the air for the desires that burst within him has hit him like a freight train. She has come at the worst time, the time when the beast cannot be contained and the hunger that attacks him cannot be satisfied.
”tor almighty, what on earth are you eating? smells like hell.”
HE blinks, thrown off by the stupidity of the question. The sky seems to lighten, the moon becoming bold as its light rays lower onto her form and brighten the view. It is then that he realizes; the girl is blind. A low, short jackal of a laugh bursts from his bloody jaws as he rises from his position. This kill would be too easy, far too easy, and therefor, he would not partake in the destroying of this worthless life. Nature itself would do it for him and when that time came, he would find her and devour her until there was nothing left. The thought of it caused a shudder to roll along his spine as muscle ripple with the effect. He draws forward from where he dwells. The shadows cling to him like ink, mixing in with the blood upon his pelt. Like a wraith he draws forward until he is hairs away from her. Nose slides close, a long sniff granting him enough satisfaction as eyes roll with delight. Another shudder and then, “A young male, most likely around 3.” surprisingly smooth chords slide out from such a disgusting mouth like silk. So enticing, so seductive that to a blind girl he may even appear handsome. Malikye was handsome, by far one of the best, but his lifestyle, well that made him quite ugly.
HE sneers, “Perhaps you knew of him?” icy gaze locking onto her face as if to guess her reaction before it happens. He would have fun with this.
Mother always said it’s impolite to play with your food.
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