Her Muse Strikes at Night
Posted: Tue Feb 24, 2004 1:57 pm
The yellow light of a campfire danced across a spray of dust, that which was disturbed from a stomping, leather boot. ..and, if not for the crackling death of twigs and the hissing protest of melting, disappearing snow, the low, breaking sound, followed by the suction and soft rip of flesh would have driven what animals remained to watch the spectacle away. Now, a new hiss accompanied the song of her presence. ..and Kira smiled as some spattering blood was caught in the steaming cup within her hand. A box of chalk lay, scattered, on the ground, its neighboring parchments caught in the freezing wind.
Inhuman things might have heard the screams of the trees around.
"This is art, fool! This is what stirs the sanity of men. There.. If your blood were as reflective as water, I would reveal your sight in this- ..this little painter's bottle I have."
In the keenness of her own, tapered ears, the laughter that burst from half-wooden lips, snapping in an oak throat, boiled the blood of demons in her chest - 'roused the screech of unremorse there, now that her clear, cutting voice was unmuffled by the folds of black cloth. She canted her head to the side, the glow of fired eyes piercing as lids squinted - as the free hand creaked tight leather, curling her fingers in a circle to spy through, a mocking gesture. Her spectacle to see the fine detail of this piece.. ..and her canvas whimpered.
"Do you not realize how beautiful you are? ..how the very glimpse of you within mortal eyes would be enough to shoot them with an arrow of nightmare. Ah.. I could write poetry of how its molten, metal horrors seeped to cool in the cracks of their simple brains. ..as his final moments of life were spent without the ability to utter last words."
In the distance, wolves howled, sounding their posessiveness over the food soon to come. ..and he lifted eyes to the sky, as if praying with a mind's voice to the gods above.
"Keep their teeth from your mind. You will be long gone before they venture here, I promise you. My roots are planted until you die with that sorrowful look in your eyes. Hold still! ... You'll be a beautiful portrait for your scattering sheets."
She pointed at him with a scold, the tiny twig of a lengthy finger uncoiling itself within its leather casing and dipping as a pointed pen would within the jaw she held in her palm. ..and she stepped aside, allowing the firelight to behold dreaded eyes, frozen in the end of a soul's time.
Down the bloodied slope of a neck, saliva mingled with vomit atop a dead man's hanging tongue, the roof of his mouth only moistened by dripping blood. His arms, broken, bent back further than any man's should so that his hands could not find the ability to turn in prayer.
Inhuman things might have heard the screams of the trees around.
"This is art, fool! This is what stirs the sanity of men. There.. If your blood were as reflective as water, I would reveal your sight in this- ..this little painter's bottle I have."
In the keenness of her own, tapered ears, the laughter that burst from half-wooden lips, snapping in an oak throat, boiled the blood of demons in her chest - 'roused the screech of unremorse there, now that her clear, cutting voice was unmuffled by the folds of black cloth. She canted her head to the side, the glow of fired eyes piercing as lids squinted - as the free hand creaked tight leather, curling her fingers in a circle to spy through, a mocking gesture. Her spectacle to see the fine detail of this piece.. ..and her canvas whimpered.
"Do you not realize how beautiful you are? ..how the very glimpse of you within mortal eyes would be enough to shoot them with an arrow of nightmare. Ah.. I could write poetry of how its molten, metal horrors seeped to cool in the cracks of their simple brains. ..as his final moments of life were spent without the ability to utter last words."
In the distance, wolves howled, sounding their posessiveness over the food soon to come. ..and he lifted eyes to the sky, as if praying with a mind's voice to the gods above.
"Keep their teeth from your mind. You will be long gone before they venture here, I promise you. My roots are planted until you die with that sorrowful look in your eyes. Hold still! ... You'll be a beautiful portrait for your scattering sheets."
She pointed at him with a scold, the tiny twig of a lengthy finger uncoiling itself within its leather casing and dipping as a pointed pen would within the jaw she held in her palm. ..and she stepped aside, allowing the firelight to behold dreaded eyes, frozen in the end of a soul's time.
Down the bloodied slope of a neck, saliva mingled with vomit atop a dead man's hanging tongue, the roof of his mouth only moistened by dripping blood. His arms, broken, bent back further than any man's should so that his hands could not find the ability to turn in prayer.