A shadowy figure flits across the village's main thoroughfare; darkened windows hold candles that were extinguished hours ago.
It halts before a particular door, sniffing around the jamb.
A growling sound emanates from its empty stomach.
There's an infant in this house, It thinks, smacking its pallid lips.
Infants are best.
Taking care to remain silent, it turned the doorknob; the opened door creaked slightly.
The child's scent grew more potent as it stepped into the main room.
It howled in agony, as a silvery, moonlit blade cut through the darkness, wounding the creature deeply.
There'd be no dinner... tonight.
Wednesday, May 20, 2015
Sunday, May 3, 2015
Scar Tissue
The moment the little boy's eyes met his, he knew that the world was a sick place.
The child disappeared beneath the crushing weight of the MRAP's wheels, and though the vehicle had no problem rolling over this tiny obstacle, his mind registered a small bump.
Standing orders were to never stop the vehicle for anything, and he had obeyed those orders.
What kind of person did following those orders make him?
"Sir?" the clerk asked.
"Hmm?"
"Paper, or plastic?"
The young boy that had triggered his horrid memory, had left with his mother a while ago, groceries in tow.
The child disappeared beneath the crushing weight of the MRAP's wheels, and though the vehicle had no problem rolling over this tiny obstacle, his mind registered a small bump.
Standing orders were to never stop the vehicle for anything, and he had obeyed those orders.
What kind of person did following those orders make him?
"Sir?" the clerk asked.
"Hmm?"
"Paper, or plastic?"
The young boy that had triggered his horrid memory, had left with his mother a while ago, groceries in tow.
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