As a head went against the door,
Then a noise akin to a squashed melon
As their were no more tapping,
As crimson seeped under the floor.
Through the eye hole, not like anything will
Be looking back,
I slowly look through this little portal,
"Eye spy with my little eye,
Really not the time to think of that,
What it white?
Like piano keys, but with red tints,
Then pulls back, I see lips that are smiling forward.
I lunge back as a where eyes once spied,
A door splinter's, a thousand tooth picks litter the air.
I turn as I no what comes next,
"Run little piggy,
"Run as fast as you can,
"I'll peel you flesh while squeal and cry,
Beads of sweat pour from my brow,
I can hear it behind me
Don't look behind, don't look....
"O' ****, what the **** its dressed in a suit of white,
It laughs as it luges forward, lips curled
As if this was a demented game of kiss chase.
Dam fool not with that breath, here kiss this
As I grab a vase,
"I didn't like it anyway,
A jaw and flesh, like a stone ripples in a pond
It stalls for a moment, and smirks,
I have that saying from a Hanks film,
As I do in to a room I leave the door ajar,
Was that a mistake, as footsteps heard outside,
It treads closer, inquisitive to why not locked, shut
While I sit on a chair waiting inside,
The Door splinter as shards embed in the cheap wallpaper.
"Welcome white taker,
"Do you know that saying,
"A spider is ever patient ever waiting,
"For its dinner to entrap itself,
Well I have waited a long time do you know there are
things older than
Has a way of needing, and this time is to feed,
I could taste your essence from miles away,
Luring you with whispers in the wind,
"Didn't you wonder what urged you here,
As a fist flies forward, and a finger greets this enraged
Moment, thing of white, I smile as
With but a finger on corruption a fist does turn to ash,
Like butterflies it floats around the room.
I inhale consuming this nourishment, but more I must have.
"My time is now to feed,
"What were your words,
"Little man in white,
"Your time is ending and ash you will become,
"I am not food for you,
I am darkness personified,
"I will not tremble in your presence,
And in a closed room, in a home nowhere special,
A scream of darkness* is heard enthralled in its demise
Butterflies of ash floated in the room,
Then they were gone, consumed in the blink of an eye.
"I do like these little games of chase and hunt,
"What to eat next a feathered friends,
"Or feast on a city of those children of dust,
A figure is seen walking out of that area with a
Toothpick in his mouth,
People swore that he Yawned as if a big meal ate,
Rubbing his belly,
And that a black butterfly flew out,
Licked his lips and ate it??
"I have a hunger,
"Be hopeful that the urge never takes,
*"In those dwelling you call home.