the huntress arrives underneath the inky sky
clad in black with dark kohl ******* her eyes
slowly making way towards her prey
a predatory dance under the crescent moon
she smells blood in the air
metallic like the stone cold surface of her sword
she senses fear emanating from the injured mortal
the wounded creature drags itself mournfully on the snow
“pathetic” she thinks wryly
her boots clank on the ice as she gets closer to her target
finally face to face with the beast
her past right in front of her
for she remembers who this was
who she used to be
a shadow of herself
a forgotten silhouette
a fragile spirit
one which easily broke
a fickle being
one which easily caved
“you no longer serve a purpose”
she raises her sword high into the cold night
an evil look on her face
which sends shivers down the spine of her victim
she brings down the weapon in one swift motion
the creature’s eyes go wide
it’s body turns limp
a maroon stream begins to flow
the mission is complete
the damage done
her destiny fulfilled
the huntress mounts onto her black stallion
and rides away in the witching hour