Butcher Bird
The stately bird, he cocked his head. And fixed me with a gaze of lead. Polished, metal, yet toxic like. Less like a sparrow, more like a Shrike. He watched me through my grimy glass.
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The stately bird, he cocked his head. And fixed me with a gaze of lead. Polished, metal, yet toxic like. Less like a sparrow, more like a Shrike. He watched me through my grimy glass.
The townsfolk, unbeknown to themselves, were easy prey to Kirsteen, she lithely glided towards them, searching for a gorging feed.
#beginningline #nightdwellers Her heart distorted frantically in the eerie night air. She was nervous and her hands were trembling.
In a castle high up in the forest, Where the living dare not stay, An eerie presence is waiting, For you to come its way.
#colourchallenge #saffron Saffron eyes pierce the shade, Staring at you with eyes so suede. Piles of bones they look upon, Something here as gone terribly wrong.
Blood stained lips Pale white skin 3 dead brides No living kin. Long sharp teeth Nails to match Hair as dry As cottage thatch. Long black cloak Hides from daylight The original creature Of the night.
I yearn for the hunt, My name it calls, Under pale moonlight, Over darkened moors. I long for the chase, Prey in my sight, None shall find peace, In the deep black night.
Walk with me a while... Show me, Let me see your innocence. Show me your sweet nature, Your naïveté, Your beauty. I never could hold such qualities, I yearn for you to show me... Show me...
Thump. Thump. Thump. The noise gets closer. Bang. Bang. Bang. There's footsteps at your door. Creak. Creak. Creak. Someone is inside. Click. Click. Click. A patch of light hits the floor.
For centuries I have walked among you; Feeding off you, living off you; You haven't known I was there; You have never known the creature that I am; And to this day you think I do not exist.
#terror #nightdweller Awake after decades Asleep in the earth, Screeching in flight Ragged and stinking Flesh flayed and hungry Mottled claws raised Tongue yearns for gore A throat thirsts for...
#nightdwellers You may not see me, but I am there Made of nightmares and thin air.
A cold wind blows, In this rickety house, So empty and hollow, Not even a mouse. No lights are lit, Shrouded in dark, No noise is made, No sound, no remark.
Amidst the streets of London, Lies a predator on the hunt, A shadow of the night, One to never ever confront.
12pm the witches hour, so come out here to play my dear, watch me hover so near, oh the taste of those delicate tears, My cauldron bubbles and steams up today, I'm not sorry this is the only way.
Instinct: Chapter 2 (Part 1) Kate I was running just off the embankment of the A12, the main dual carriageway between the counties.