THE FIRST ONE
*TO **** OR TO?
THE FIRST ONE *was obsessed with the penchant to ****
Where he lay bare when darkness falls, lurking around looking for blood to spew and flesh to drill.
Customarily, from a distance, he looked calmer and more laid back, but on a closer view, he's a frenzied beast prowling for a prey.
***
THE CLOUD gave way and an emanating surge of blackness forged in.
The green leaves became blur, the shrubs, dull and the air smelled dark.
And tonight, no guiding star traveled by
..............
The stars had refused sprouting, so darkness took charge, winning an inglorious war.
And in the midst of the thick chasm of darkness, stood a monstrous shadow. Hiding a knife neatly behind his trousers. There he was, prowling, watching the arena until he claimed it safe.
..........
Like a meandering hungry wolf waiting for a shriveling prey. This shadow swirled, turning in circles, hungry and abashed. His impatient attitude took the better half of him as he began canvassing round a circle. And as if fate had a penchant for entwining tragedies, a young and innocent girl with eyes that scored blue was seen walking into the presence of an unseen monster.
................
It was fate, not serendipity. And here she was, unsuspecting.
The monstrous shadow still in hiding, watched his new founded prey and was waiting for the perfect moment to pierce and attack. He's baying for blood and just within this dark patch of time, a beautiful and enchanting young girl was passing by.
All of a sudden, she felt some unseen eyes plucking into her soul. Someone must be lurking around. She could feel it.
The air smelt horror.....
The breeze was too cold.
The arena itself was encapsulating danger and turning around she saw a stranger.
A very tall, muscled ripping, Strong and unusual strange man. Fear gripped her. She began breathing too hard and too shallow at once. She couldn't make do the exact face of him, but from the heat of the moment, she could tell he wants just one thing. Her blood.
The monstrous stranger brought out a knife, sharp and direct and attempted to pierce. Groaning and roaring like a savaging beast he directed it to her chest, but then he paused. Her eyes.
It was her eyes
Her eyes held him there. There was something about her eyes that made him pause and ponder.
There was tears. Tears of a broken soul, that was long kept within the chasms of her spirit. There was hope, hope for a fallen soul, that it will rise again. And there was warmth, warmth for a cold heart, that it will melt again.
He looked into her eyes and for once in his life, he could see himself within those piercing sunken magnetic eyes
And for the first time, the monstrous stranger was on his knees, crying in pain and agony.
"What can bring an undaunted warrior down on bended knees"?
A woman's tears can pierce into the most rigid of hearts.
Raising his head, he could find her no more. She was gone, gone into the black night.
A moment of rocketing rage flew in as he screamed
"Arghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh"
Perplexed, fascinated and enraged at the same time, he would go into the night and search for her amidst the wave of blackness and spill her blood to the sands of time.
But could he actually spill the blood of the strange girl with eyes that brought warmth, hope and whose tears brought him down on shriveled knees?
**Ovi Odiete© Dec, 2016.
A woman's tears can pierce into the most rigid of hearts.
