Why does everyone think that i have bad intentions? I don't understand this. What did i do? No one trusts me anymore. And the people who do are being told false things by those who don't. Apparently i have a reputation for having sex with people. Who ever the fuck started this should be backed into with a truck or something...I'
The surge of blood through your torn body hits you.
The tips of you fingers, cold as ice. Your head, burning, turned to face the one.
Those words wind around your conscious being. Ripping it down
Until there is nothing left but a primal furor and rage unmatched by any.
Those words…
Those words that summon the worst and the best of you that no one
Should ever endure to whiteness have been uttered by the one.
Vocal cord vibration transformed into a burning shard of glass.
Something snaps.
Heat rushes to the ends of your body, burning so intense you feel as though
Your had is reaching into the depths of hell, touching the essence of hatred.
Such agony should never be felt by a mortal soul.
But just the same, you feel pleased by the immense power in your hand.
You realize then that your firm grip on reality has all but gone from you.
But it’s too late now; you’ve already lost all control of your physical being.
Now a spectator to the violence, justice, revenge exerted by your body.
Concepts, as those words, transformed, changed from just what they are
Into physical matter to exact themselves on this one.
All you hear is your heart, beating faster, All you feel is your soul shriveling.
You watch as your hands, burning objects of hate, lift from the plane of reality.
Your whole body rotates to where your head has been turned the whole time.
With that primal furor that has taken over, you realize that your body is lurching.
Mouth wide open you lunge toward one with speed immeasurable.
Claws extended, teeth dripping with poison, wings, swept back.
You connect with it, one claw pinning it’s neck to the damp dark wall.
The other impaled into it’s chest causing blood to gush from the wound.
Your teeth sink into the warm flesh of it’s neck and administer the poison
Brewed by your bowels for this reason, and this reason only.
There is blood everywhere. It’s Corpse lies there, It’s eyes still
Looking into yours with the same terror it had expressed in life.
You regain control of yourself. The thread that had broken was mended
By the spilt blood.
Your body is back sitting in your chair, head focused still on the one.
You return
No blood, no claws, wings, fangs.
Just you, the normal you.
You turn your head looking forward with a false expression of attentiveness
Plastered on your face. No, not this time. But maybe the next…