The Little One
He was scared.
I could taste his fear. Watching him shaking made me feel sorry for him at first.
I didn't want to kill him.
The Little One was just like me; scared.
That's all he was.
He meant me no harm.
So why did I kill him? And why did it feel okay…good even?
Was it because I really WAS glad that there was something out there even weaker than me?
Or was it my fear that drove me to kill him?
Was it my black blood?
Ah.
I'm overthinking it again.
I should stop now.