Short #12: Could you kill a stranger to save your own life?

Yes, so simple it’s almost sweet but it’s not. A bitter taste leaves my mouth as I speak it. But that’s just it, I’m someone’s child, and it’s my life or theirs. Am I a horrible person? I can make it quick, I can live.

It’s dark and quiet, with a snap it’s done and I walk away. I’m cold, no tears and my body is stiff. Home is only a mile away. I wonder what mom is cooking?

Short #11: Guilt

Guilt is an amazing thing; it eats away at one’s insides and destroys what we are. If you simply walked by a starving child, a dying man, or a bleeding woman; it would make you wonder. Father, mother, son, daughter, you would put yourself in their ‘shoes,’ filled with grief. A split moment – less at times – makes you give into that clawing beast in your chest. The question is: Is that person worth it?

Short #10: Offering

I trudged over the ground, my feet sliding over dead autumn leaves as the bleak sunlight filtered down to touch my face. The smell here is crisp, the cleanness of the air almost nauseating as I continued my stride. Raising a hand I graced my fingers along the rough edges of a trees bark. A hiss passed among the branches above, the clatter of their dead limbs against one another mingled with the roar of the breeze in my ears.

“You should remember your place!” And I turn to view the face of my pursuer, with blue eyes, white hair, and a scar over his eye, running the length of his face.

“And where is that?” My voice is like a dull blade, uncaring and unfeeling. The grin that curves his features would unnerve most, would leave you wallowing in despair, but not me…

He extends a hand; an offering of things to come. Turning on my heel, the soft chatter of the trees clapping as one in the sunset breeze filled my ear.

Short #9: Affect

I was walking through a field, covered in mist, the sunrise obscured by the bleak. My feet brushed over the dew covered blades of grass, staining my shoes in blinking crystals. Reaching down to touch the smooth, cool surface of a pebble, I stopped when something caught the corner of my eye.

At first, I felt a shiver of fear, for a black beast seemed to have taken refuge behind me. Turning slowly, I came face-to-face in his hand, the silver head of a wolf in his black gloved hand. Silver and black curled over his pale face, a top-hat tilted to obscure his eyes, and I felt myself choke. Truly, in this one moment, I failed to find words to describe this feeling that circled my throat and made me understand total fear.

“Who are you?” I managed to say, body poised to run, paralyzed in fear. He didn’t speak, simply raised a hand to push his finger against his lips.

“Shhh,” was the hiss that came from him, a wind roaring over the plan as a pair of silver eyes came into view. Sitting up with a jerk I found myself staring at a dark grey wall.

I gripped my arms, mouth opened in shock, eyes wide and body wracked with shaking. How could one being instill so much fear in a single stair? Taking to my feet I swore I could feel my breath waver before my face…

Short #8: "I am sorry..."

The man told me, “I am sorry,” as he wiped crimson from his hands with a cloth. Despite his attempts to keep me from seeing the rust color dried to his nails. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he rushed on and I could tell he was trying to keep his voice calm. I raised a brow inquisitively at him, chuckling almost, as I raised a hand to adjust my top hat.

“Not at all my fellow, I was just going to a rather nice café down the street. May I ask for your company as I travel?” My voice hung in the air between us and he nodded, slowly at first, before taking to my side. As our boots clacked over the cobblestone streets of London I murmured to my quiet new friend: “tell me, what is your name, fellow?”

He paused before saying in a slow voice, “they call me…Jack.” The next morning I was intrigued to hear that ‘The Ripper’ had struck again, as I sat over tea with my companion…

Short #7: Halloween

Halloween – Ah…The apple of my eye. What a sorted, unfeeling day, a day where discord and demon are friend. Let the chill embrace you and laugh. You see my nature and complement my intent, - “job well done” – you say? I would say as well, and as you find my appearance to be no mere façade, I will give a chuckle as you screech.

I wave fondly to them from below as that day approaches, making my ascent with a roar, “evening comes, so does the Devil to play!”

Short #6: Melancholy

Some days, when I’m feeling…Melancholy of all things, I sit and brood while the mist of dawn rolls in from the mountains in the East. Just as I’m lulling to sleep, I hear the soft patter of rain on the roof, a quiet rattle of the wind at my door. A screech comes from across the room, the clatter as books fall off the shelf. Something whispers over the tiles of my floor, encrusting them in ice, and I slowly stand. I think its time to get up and say “hello” to my new friend.