My Take on Horrorimo #17

Definitely one of my favorites. Enjoy, then let me know what you thought of it.

Life is a Game, Death is a Game
Word Count: 497

It’s not everyone that gets to confront their demons, right up close and personal.

I do.horror-18

Today, in fact. At the end of this golden lit road is the mother and father of all demons. The soul crushing, personality altering, terror inducing nightmare in the middle of the night kind of demon.

His name is Peter.

I met him, oh say, twenty five years ago. Roaming amongst the teenage animals at the zoo. He stood out because no child held his hand. No family surrounded him. He was alone.

He was alone. I was, coincidentally, alone.

He was intent.

I won’t get into details. They don’t matter anymore, not anymore than what I had for breakfast last Tuesday before I went for my swim. Inconsequential details.

What matters is today, this golden road, and the darkness found in between the trees.

I woke this morning, well, truthfully, I didn’t wake at all. If I close my eyes, my soul can still hear the cries of anguish, the shrieks of disbelief. But I don’t want to hear the pain of my family now that I’ve moved on.

Not now that I am set free to vengeance.

I walk down the middle of the road, unseen, unbothered. I can feel my target, am drawn to him, like death was drawn to me in the early morning hours.

Who knew death was an immortal game of tag? That doesn’t make it so random anymore, does it?

Regardless of who tagged me, I am the one that is IT now. It’s my turn to hunt, to find, and after I’m done, to sleep the sleep of final rest.

It all sounds so poetic, but it’s not. It’s painful, actually. Like a drug addiction. In the throes of need, it feels like sickness. Even if I wasn’t feeling vengeful, I would have to seek him out, to end this inexorable pain.

I would have to.

He’s back in the trees. I can feel his latest victim’s tears like they roll down my own cheeks. I can hear the crackle of dead grass being kicked, my legs that grow tired.

I am coming.

I am there.

He doesn’t see me, but somehow, she does. Her shirt is torn, there’s blood in her hairline, but she smiles and it’s beautiful.

He sees the smile and stops, confused.

I am on him in an instant, my hands reaching into his back. He feels the cold, and shivers. I grasp his heart and freeze it in his chest, and he coughs and coughs. I can see his panic in her calm blue eyes, mirrored there.

She nods, I nod.

The time stretches out, winds around me, and my eyes grow heavy and close. My last vision is of her, standing up in the grass, and wiping off the seat of her pants.

I fade away…  

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2 thoughts on “My Take on Horrorimo #17

  1. Gripping story. Most of your stories are amazing. Cant pick up one or two! By the way i have written upto 19 methinks. They are waiting for you.

    Sharmishtha
    Sermistabasu.wordpress.com

    Liked by 1 person

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