Post by DadsGFNOV1st1974 on Oct 22, 2005 9:13:08 GMT -5
I do post this trusting that no one will use it as their work. It is my own!! It will be published later with all of my other short stories.
Vengeful Anger
By Kori Dalzotto 12/15/05
Her heart is ice. So cold, unwilling to love. Her blood runs black with the anger she hides.As her eyes dart from side to side. Looking, searching, for the prey she hunts. So long has it been since she tasted his blood, his pain. Yet she waits, hiding, waiting for the right moment to strike. Too long has he defied her. Too long has he hidden. She lusts to tear out his still beating heart. Yet this moment runs from her, hides. Almost as though it is not meant to be. Yet she knows it is. She feels it. Lives it. Dreams it. The anger surges through her body. She is ready. Ready to strike. But time is not. The time is not now. Later. Yes,much later. While he slumbers in his bed. Maybe this time she will prevail. Yes, she must. When the moon is high and the sky dark. When the light is out, she will strike. She will prevail.
The night is ripe. The moon is high, the sky dark. The lights are out. The time is now. She waits in the darkness. her eyes glinting in the moonlight. She listens. Listening for any sign of life. Yet, the sound is none. She is ready. Her heart races. She enters. There he sleeps upon his tweed bed. She must be quiet. Must be a surprise. Her eyes study him. Waiting for him to stir. Yet he stirs not. As quick as his breath, she bites his open neck. The blodo coats her lips. Oh! The joy she feels. He is DEAD! Never to see, to feel, to hear! She is done with her deed. Time to move on. The world has never been better.
~Kori D
Vengeful Anger
By Kori Dalzotto 12/15/05
Her heart is ice. So cold, unwilling to love. Her blood runs black with the anger she hides.As her eyes dart from side to side. Looking, searching, for the prey she hunts. So long has it been since she tasted his blood, his pain. Yet she waits, hiding, waiting for the right moment to strike. Too long has he defied her. Too long has he hidden. She lusts to tear out his still beating heart. Yet this moment runs from her, hides. Almost as though it is not meant to be. Yet she knows it is. She feels it. Lives it. Dreams it. The anger surges through her body. She is ready. Ready to strike. But time is not. The time is not now. Later. Yes,much later. While he slumbers in his bed. Maybe this time she will prevail. Yes, she must. When the moon is high and the sky dark. When the light is out, she will strike. She will prevail.
The night is ripe. The moon is high, the sky dark. The lights are out. The time is now. She waits in the darkness. her eyes glinting in the moonlight. She listens. Listening for any sign of life. Yet, the sound is none. She is ready. Her heart races. She enters. There he sleeps upon his tweed bed. She must be quiet. Must be a surprise. Her eyes study him. Waiting for him to stir. Yet he stirs not. As quick as his breath, she bites his open neck. The blodo coats her lips. Oh! The joy she feels. He is DEAD! Never to see, to feel, to hear! She is done with her deed. Time to move on. The world has never been better.
~Kori D
