I gaze out at the sea of souls and am saddened, saddened and yet have hope for tomorrow. I walk out to the busy city street and hold these thoughts in my head, but the fight to stay positive is a struggle. So many things that need to change, so many things that need to be said and done
I see a mother holding her child trying to get into a cab as a man pushes her out of the way to enter, and I shake my head. This is just one of the many things that need to change! Where has all the compassion gone in the world; are we nearing total anarchy?!
I make my way to the studio to try to record another song of hope, or at least something that moves the world. The whispers try to overtake my thoughts, such dark whispers….
The day passes, as always, with me trying way too hard to be positive, and with people trying way too hard to kill that positivity. The night shows herself to me in a slow quiet dance, and I must rest.
I look out of the gloom from his closed eyes. What I see is enough to make my stomach turn. He has lists!! Fucking lists of, “Good deeds to be done. Songs to be sung. Love that needs to be shared.”
My palms are sweaty and my hands clench hard enough to leave marks on my palms. I control my rage. It won’t do to leave traces of my presence. Gods only know he’s suspicious enough as it is.
I move quickly, up, get dressed and move fast. My hunger can’t wait any longer. I must feed. I hit the streets. At least he lives in the inner city; makes things a lot quicker, if not easier. They’re a tough lot out here in the dead of night.
I walk slowly, hoping that my prey will come to me looking for what it hopes to be an easy target. I look like an easy mark. An artist, an artist aspiring to true altruism.
My other is… Weak isn’t the right word. Kind, gentle, generous. Everything I despise. He wants to remake his place in the world. He wants. PEACE!!! I could puke. He helps. He heals. He!!! HE!!! HE!!!…
I shake my head as I awaken once more where I had not fallen asleep. I am on the streets again, yet night is well on her way to 3 a.m. The inner city is packed with souls that need saving, and I try every day to help how I can. A kind word or a smile can go a long way to bring a brightness to the world; sunlight to these souls. I only wish I could do more. I need to go back home and rest, but as I head that way I hear something.
Up ahead of me a dark alley, and I am leery about entering, but I hear movement that intrigues me, so I slowly go forward to investigate….
I hear the footsteps behind me. My prey will make its move soon. I palm my dagger and ready myself for the onslaught. It moves. I move quicker. One quick up thrust and its neck pours Crimson all over the street. I bathe in the sweet, salty taste of it.
It’s down and the final death spasms quiet. All is still. My clothes are drenched in blood as is my body. Glorious!!! I’m alive! I have fed and am sated for another period of rest. I can play this night over and over till it’s time to feed again.
I enter the apartment silent as a wraith. Without a pause I step out of the garbage bag into the shower fully clothed. Good thing I have my stash of sunlight soap. I scrub hard on the clothes. He’ll notice the wet clothes in the morning and wonder. Like I care.
Weakness flows through his body. He’s been working 18 to 20 hours a day and with me on the night shift this body is tired. Clean and whole I slip into the bed and give back his volition. Time to rest….
I awaken to another day, with a foggy head and sore body, but the dreams of madness slip from me into the abyss of my mind. My clothes soaked from the rain of last night… Yet, I don’t remember it raining….
I will start this new day as the rest of them have started… With hope.
Full Fathom 5 Productions LLC All Rights Reserved