Usual disclaimer applies
Twisted Reflection
It's pointless, he mused, staring up at the pale orb of the moon, hung bright and full in the midnight sky, and even if there was a point who would care anyway? All of them so caught up in their futile attempts at making life work. The call me crazy, what about them? All asleep without knowing, trusting in powers that are headless of their cries, PITIFUL! At least I know better.
"Yes, much better" He said licking his lips to taste the words. "Now I've seen the light I'll never back down." A feral grin split his face, and amber eye, a moment ago dull, now filled with a bright contempt for the world and the people in it, glowing contempt which embrace death and the void beyond.
Closing his eye he listened, first to the chirruping of the crickets in the damp grass nearby, then further. Out to the streets of Tokyo, unseen from his green resting place. The whirr and buss of cares as they made their way along dark roads, dogs barking in the distance, voices raised in anger, all stretching and intertwined into the starry night.
They haven't realized, I wonder why? Such a concept is beyond his understanding, he sees only "his" truth and nothing else, he can't see why they continue on like that, trying to cheat their own fate, always covered in a blanket of ignorance, a veil long ago lifted from his eyes.
We're all going to die anyway. In his hand he clutched a knife, caressing it expertly, he felt its keen edges and noted the gleam of moonlight off it's polished surface, he felt power, control, he could do anything.
He griped the knife in one hand, eye seeking out a spot on the opposite arm, quickly slicing down, a deep vertical gash. As the pain shot up from the wound his one remaining eye closed in relish. They could never understand this.
Concentrating on the pain he felt the warn sticky blood flow down his flesh, heard it spatting into the grass. Opening his eye he watched mesmerised by the steadily growing red pool. Why do they try so hard? Trying to change the word, stamp out misery, it accomplishes nothing, don't they see?
Shifting his arm close to his face he embraces the wound with his lips, the tangy, salty taste of blood filling his mouth, the smell rising to his nose. "So very sweet," he purrs from between his teeth.
The blood flow now stanched he looked up into the morning sky, his eye reflecting its colour exactly.
Maybe one day they'll understand, but then.
"Why should I care?"
*********
Well, very short not very good, but anyway, I'd love ay comment good or bad
Twisted Reflection
It's pointless, he mused, staring up at the pale orb of the moon, hung bright and full in the midnight sky, and even if there was a point who would care anyway? All of them so caught up in their futile attempts at making life work. The call me crazy, what about them? All asleep without knowing, trusting in powers that are headless of their cries, PITIFUL! At least I know better.
"Yes, much better" He said licking his lips to taste the words. "Now I've seen the light I'll never back down." A feral grin split his face, and amber eye, a moment ago dull, now filled with a bright contempt for the world and the people in it, glowing contempt which embrace death and the void beyond.
Closing his eye he listened, first to the chirruping of the crickets in the damp grass nearby, then further. Out to the streets of Tokyo, unseen from his green resting place. The whirr and buss of cares as they made their way along dark roads, dogs barking in the distance, voices raised in anger, all stretching and intertwined into the starry night.
They haven't realized, I wonder why? Such a concept is beyond his understanding, he sees only "his" truth and nothing else, he can't see why they continue on like that, trying to cheat their own fate, always covered in a blanket of ignorance, a veil long ago lifted from his eyes.
We're all going to die anyway. In his hand he clutched a knife, caressing it expertly, he felt its keen edges and noted the gleam of moonlight off it's polished surface, he felt power, control, he could do anything.
He griped the knife in one hand, eye seeking out a spot on the opposite arm, quickly slicing down, a deep vertical gash. As the pain shot up from the wound his one remaining eye closed in relish. They could never understand this.
Concentrating on the pain he felt the warn sticky blood flow down his flesh, heard it spatting into the grass. Opening his eye he watched mesmerised by the steadily growing red pool. Why do they try so hard? Trying to change the word, stamp out misery, it accomplishes nothing, don't they see?
Shifting his arm close to his face he embraces the wound with his lips, the tangy, salty taste of blood filling his mouth, the smell rising to his nose. "So very sweet," he purrs from between his teeth.
The blood flow now stanched he looked up into the morning sky, his eye reflecting its colour exactly.
Maybe one day they'll understand, but then.
"Why should I care?"
*********
Well, very short not very good, but anyway, I'd love ay comment good or bad