I hear the crows outside.
The signals of death despair and ******.
The very signs indeed that something has gone a foul
and that they,
whether from heaven or hell,
are here to leave no trace of the carcass no matter what it is.

They follow wherever I go.
Being who I am
I have no life,
no beating heart,
nor flowing blood.

But then again...
I am the bringer of death.

But where did it all start.
When did I develop this insatiable urge
-NO! -
Need to ****.

When was it that the gods decided
that I was to be punished
with this heavy task of taking
from one what I cherish above all things?

I am not sure. But a monster in the truest sense I am.

I relish in my grave burden.
The feeling of death (of me!)
as it steals over the eyes of my victim
sends a warm chill through me.
The feeling of total *******…

I have searched like many others for the meaning of life.
Like a blind man searching for his own sight
I come up futile
in my vain attempts to find the meaning
of what it means to live.

How can one find something so conflicting to what they are?
Against my nature it is to want life.
What has become of me, that being death I seek life and love?

It was cold.
I remember the cold.
The very smell of the air
as I breathed in and out
so slowly
made me to once again relive the feeling
of frost coating my lungs.

I held it there,
keeping the fresh air
within me
until it became stagnant.

It descended on me,
covering my whole body in a grip so soft,
too impassive to be called violent.

But it was anything but.

I can only describe what I felt with a metaphor.
A metaphor that feels so real
I could have sworn,
even now,
that it was truly happening,
the plunge of needles into each pore,
between each crevice of folded skin,
in my eyes and ears, numbing all my senses.

I wonder if that’s what death makes others feel.
Is that what others feel when I come near,
can they sense the imminent inevitability of their end?

“Please…P-Please.”
She whimpered against my neck
as I pressed it against her lips.
“What my love, what is it I can give you?”
My control was waning
as I unbuttoned her shirt,
exposing her ******* to the chill air.
They were ripe for me
I could almost feel them
grow under my hands.

“Please…”

she stammered again.

“Don’t do this, you don’t have to.”

These pleas were only superficial
I knew,
but I understood that she accepted
her fate.
The look was one of surprise
on my face
as I slid my hands slowly down to her jeans.
I let the question go unanswered
as I unbuttoned them.
I pulled the zip down.

“PLEASE!”

she screamed,
the saliva choking
as she pleaded.
The tears ran heavy
down her cheeks.

I couldn’t help but kiss her trembling mouth,
or to taste to salt of her tears.
A low laugh escaped from me
as I buried my face in her curls.
I inhaled deeply
letting the scent of her
shampooed hair overwhelm me.
“I can’t stop my love.
I’ve been waiting so long.
You’re my chosen one.”

Her whimpering became sobs,
uneven and lovely,
as I pulled down her jeans
leaving only her nakedness
between
her and I.

Then it was my turn.
Her eyes never left me
as I pulled my woolen sweater
over my head,
or even when I let my own jeans fall
to the carpeted floor.
Again I sat atop her,
hovering
for a moment
looking in her fear stricken eyes.

Those dark inhuman eyes.

First I let my lips enclose hers.
And though they were unwilling,
I could sense a trace of resignation
in her rebellion.

She was breaking.

“No, no my love.”
I grasped her in the palm of my hand
and her gasp, her open mouth;

I took slowly,

gently tasting still that cigarette
on her tongue.

“Please.”

she muttered.*
But again a stronger sense of her resignation
sounded
and when I let my fingers slide
in her
I knew she had given up.

She was mine, utterly.

I slid in her then,
knowing that she would be fully ready to submit to me.

I was never rough;
I was as death was intended to be,
natural and peaceful.
In and out,
in and out,
like breathing,
until her muffled sobs became sinuous
against my ear.
In and out,
slow and never rushed.
Her arched back
her fluttered eyes
all signs that it was almost time.

The waiting was almost painful
as I burst within her
sending death throughout her limbs,

watching the life escape
and rise slowly from her
until she lay limp on the bed.

Her soul,
her life,
lingered a moment longer
before I reached out
and sent it up towards what lay beyond.

“My love.”

I whispered against her deaf ears.

“My sweet love.”

I dressed her again
and left her outside with the other bodies.
Yet she I left farther apart.
Watching as the snow covered her
until she was only a mound of white.
Already buried in a grave
by nature.

“Do not worry my love. You’re with me now.”
I smoothed down her tussled curls
and carried her towards my bed.
Sweat smeared the insides of my elbow
coming from the fold of her bent knees.
Again she screamed
and struggled against me
but I held her fast.

“I can’t let you go my love. You are my chosen one.”
My eyes widened with the realization
that I have finally gotten what I need
and more
was still to come.
She became still as if in shock.
Her lips pressed together in a hard line
and like child she went into herself
thinking that she would block the coming
experience
from her mind.
But there was no place for her to go,
for not even in the recesses of her mind
would I let her go.
She would feel everything
that I gave to her,
and in the end she would
thank me.

I am death,

and it was her time to leave this earth,
this was my way.

I laid her down
and her whimpering became less.
Her eyes were moist
and glistening with unshed tears.
“How beautiful you look.”
I whispered in her ears.
My lips closed around her lobe
pulling
down on the cold skin.
Could she feel my growing heat against her?
Each wrist I bound
each ankle I tied,
I will not let you get away my love.
“I want to share myself with you.”
I kissed her chin
I kissed her eyes
and warmed my hands against her *******.
She whined
I soothed her.
“Don’t cry my love. Don’t shed unnecessary tears.”
I looked her over slowly
lingering on her *******
gingerly
touching her heat,
which I could feel pulsing beneath me palm.
She wants me.
I knew she would.

Staring into her eyes
I could see the fear that
I wanted,
could she see the lust
reflected in mine?

******.
I think it’s time for another ****.
Soon though, soon I would confront him,
and he would not fare as well as my first.
Though indeed he would be different from the others,
someone new,
or maybe like my first
in his own way.

I’m feeling reminiscent. I’m feeling lonely for fear.

She stood outside the rusted metal door.
She knocked once,
but there was no answer.
There would be no answer.
Everyone had long since left to the other world.
I walked slowly towards her.
She took a last draw from her cigarette
and ground it beneath her foot.

I wonder what her bare feet will look like.

Of course there was all time for that.
I will kiss every toe
and burn the memory in my mind.

She jumped when I laid a gentle hand upon her shoulder.
Her eyes measured me warily.

Ah,

those dark brown eyes,
almost black,
so inhumanly beautiful.
I will kiss each one
and feel the caress of each soft eyelash against my skin.

Her panicked fear set within me a flame
and all I can see now was her,
her hair...her eyes...her supple mouth that formed a perfect cupid’s bow,
a bow I wanted to open,
stretch, kiss and caress.  

I pulled her to me.
I laid my lips atop hers amidst her struggle to get away,
but my grip was like iron.

I tasted the cigarette on her tongue.
Our chests touched
and I could feel the flutter of her heart
as she laid her palms against my chest trying to separate us.

The clink of teeth on teeth resounded loudly in my ears
and against the night air void of all sound.

She screamed,
a sound that I fully expected,
the delicate pitch
making me rush in a bought of impatience
to open the door that I pulled the metal from its hinges.

I pulled her inside towards the stairs, towards our room.

She raged against me.
Pulling and pushing,
trying desperately to flee, but it was too late.

I would not let her leave me. Never.

When I only wanted love
You gave to me a sickness from which
I have yet to recover.

With measured steps I willfully betray you
With wringing hands and fumbled fingers
I set determination. Waiting has only embittered us
With distrust we lay together. I will not live another day
With angry words to set at bay, while we sit together
On a warm noon’s day, we bite our tongue
This anger eats us whole; surely you can’t stand this gorge!
The question stands rhetorical; I have left while you were unaware.