I Should Have Said Die

By: Fox

In the bleakest hour, when all is still, it commences. Slowly it’s dripping fangs, and cold

eyes appears. It’s cold eyes matching it’s cold heart. The creature haunts our world

continuing for all eternity, unless it succeeds in it’s payment of souls. Most believe it is

real, some do not. The ones who don’t are usually the ones vanquished, lacerated apart

while still alive.


They see and hear every second of the creature tearing at their flesh savagely.

They can hear as the creature crunches their bones into tender bits. They can see the

claws tearing and ripping. They see the creature laugh at them, their grin showing

dripping burgundy teeth.


A pool of blood surrounds the victim, surging into a river of death. The life pours

out of them in form of raging rapids. The screams and the mournful shrieking of death

echoes off the rivers edge. As the creature finishes he leaves the victims there to soak into

their own essence and soul. Painfully dying, physically and mentally.

“ No sympathy, no sorrow,” thinks the creature, “ no death, no hope.” It nears

closer to dawn, the creature can feel it. “ No light! No light!” He screams into the

shadows, into the emptiness of his hollow room.


The creature turns to the third victim of the dreary night. “ Do you wish to live

and become like me? Or do you wish to die and wander the earth?” His voice deep,

raspy, and echoes almost godly. The voice answers barely, and the creature gets his usual

reply.

“ Die.” The voice fades out and it gone forever, as the monster picks up what is

left of his three victims. He stacks the pieces in a pile by his chair. With a slight wave of

his hand , they burst into flames. The scent soothes him like a candle. As soon as all the

pieces have become ashes he spreads them on his floor.

“ This makes 9,000 souls I’ve collected since I began my sentence. All I need is a

thousand more, I shall do five tomorrow. After a thousand more I shall be free form the

chains I’ve placed myself in. The creature sighs and stares at the ashes. His own soul

appears in front of him, a boy of nineteen. A brunette, with chocolate eyes, sweet eyes.

The creature hangs his head and stares at his lost soul.

“ I should have said ‘die’.”

ISHOULDA
Site Copyright © 2001-2024 Soul of a Poet, All Rights Reserved.
All works on this site are copyright their original authors.
You wasted 0.0017 seconds of the server's life.