The Hunt

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
There is a beast shrouded beneath flesh and bone
Day and night it hungers; it longs to devour...

Submitted: June 11, 2017

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Submitted: June 11, 2017

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There is a beast shrouded beneath flesh and bone

Day and night it hungers; it longs to devour

 

You with your innocent, blissful naiveté… are incentive enough to drive a man mad

 

There is a monster craving yourself, biding his time, counting your steps; the shadows are eating away at the light

He’s making his moves, so patient, so slight

 

You never do notice the thickening heat; you never do hear the fall of his feet

 

Silently stalking, frozen, still watching

Guarding his prey as you slip off to sleep

 

There is a savage breathing you in; a venomous tongue, coating your skin

You wake in a sweat to moon shining clear, and can’t tell the reason you tremble, you fear

 

There is a darkness attached to your back; a something much colder, deeper than black

 

You shrug off the chills, and close both your eyes

You hope all the whisperings of warnings are lies

 

There is a beast, tearing through flesh

There is a monster, breaking through bone

 

You with your careless, foolish naiveté…were incentive enough to capture the mad

 


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