Huntress

story? poem? prose? idk you decide

The pool stares, and in a solid nightmare of seconds, the silver fish clear her shadow. Her body twists around her profile and I see her for who Creation sentenced her to be. Sunwarmed static burns her outline like a halo, or maybe God noticed her for the first time and she's revelling in the glow. So small, so dainty a creature, still, real enough and dangerous enough to be granted a shadow in a place so far from the sun. Remind those small enough to witness her intentions of the trailing darkness that clings to her lithe form and remind those much larger than her that when the sun does close its eyes the killing fog of her nature can wrap itseld in tendrels around the whole of their bleeding existance. Controlling. The giving sun is very awake and she's slept off any guilt that may travel the length of her spine, smoothing down any half-heart imperfections and swallows them all. Hungry. Eyes so alive when they're turned upward in the day-light, the glare masks whatever one or two hues they showcased as if glazed in innocense, or maybe plainly ghost blind and near closed as she drinks in a betraying breeze. Turns to me. Small enough to be haunted by her intentions, I must escape. Haring up the rise, bramble on all sides and I feel her serpentine approach like the brutal punch of momentum on a downhill track. Darting from one fold in the Earth to another faster than clockwork but I might as well have been trudging through clouds. The air is heavy with her hunger. Her breathing behind me feels like angels of the apocalypse and I know she wants my heart. It's small and unbruised inside of me but I feel it punching at every edge in my skin running suicide-fast and I fear the feel of it escaping through my mouth. The source of our sky slams shut and in one moment everything is silenced. My senses feeling obliged to frame her movements and stands, still as the trees and searching. Anything might have given her location to my advantage- a shoot of grass sighing sideways, the crack of a twig or maybe a bat of her lashes. The stiff breeze wafted clean from behind me. She appears like a phantom, suspended outstretched in the air above me, mouth opened in ululation- sensation of death's seduction. She is not an image of divinity. She is not unstable enough to realise. She is a snake exalted by her self-righteous thinking. She is a comfort now that she is here, so near.. My heart aches for its faltering but maybe I can feed.. the queen.. The end enters here in this waking sunlight, and I feel my heart slipping away from me, feel it cradled in her claws..

Author's Note

well it's all fun and cheese
but at the end of the day
it's just a story about a rabbit
hunted by a cat
hahaha

Reviews

[dreaming dame]

who's heart are you cradling in YOUR claws huh?:) lol naa.
Once again you have written a piece filled with well dictioned (idk if that's even a word, but it suonds truly intelligent ai?:P) words. Love it, though I'll probably read it again in a few weeks to get that second meaning I always get when re-reading your words:P