A Storm

A Storm

2 mins
121


Standing against the backdrop of the starlit night sky, I knew that screaming my heart out was useless to the point of infinity; but even then, I continued flexing my throat muscles, releasing the entire quantity of glucagon stored in my body through my lips. 


A shadow of a tall shady man had appeared around the corner, his eyebrows furrowing closer to each other. Slowly his dark lips curved into an iniquitous smile. “Now now,” he said, his face hidden under a curtain of blood- curling shadowy figures.


″The sky is always unusually calm before a storm-isn’t it??”


Little gray figures could be seen through the corner of my bare eyes. The figures of horror. The figures of intensity. Shadows... shadows everywhere. The shadows of fear. Of knives. Of blood. Of ...


As he slashed his ivory knife into my limp body, a soft beam of the starlit night sky entered the room through the open window. I did not scream ... did not cry... did not even try to save myself.


He laughed.


My insides throbbed in eternal pain and a feeling of intense peace. The sound seemed to pierce deeper than the dagger which had slashed my heart into two.


But my heart had been already slashed into a thousand pieces three years ago. As I closed my eyes in distress, he pushed the sharp edge deeper into my bare body.

“The storm...” I whispered.

″... has just begun my friend. I’ll make sure that it ends with you.”


With a loud wail, he thrust the dagger into my breast, tearing it apart. I laughed. Somewhere in the distant hills beyond the horizon, a faint thundercrash could be heard.


But the storm had just begun.


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