A Raven’s Night
The moon shimmers,
The door shuts,
The lights go off,
The window opens,
The curtains lift,
Step... step... step.
A flash of silver,
A snip here, a cut there,
The blood flows...
It is particularly cold tonight. Wild, tall poplars have turned black as if doused under the shadow of the very snow that proffered them its beauty before twilight. Their shadow stretches far and wide, turning everything that dares to come their way, into the darkest shade of its original palette.
Deep within the shadow a lifeling scuttles. A speck of white, whiter than any snow, desperately trying to camouflage its hopeful appearance into the grey gloom of hostility. Failing miserably.
At the other end, a silhouette of a cloaked figure, darker than night, emerges from the trees. The towering body slowly approaches the lifeling. His eyes widen and shine the brightest emerald as it sees the figure inching closer. There wasn’t much distance between them when a flash of silver appeared between the two.
A slash of the scythe, a spot of scarlet. It still cold above, but the meat warms me.
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