No Title _ short novella

Header is not needed

– Take it, for god's sake! -
I had never seen those blue eyes become as dark as freshly brewed coffee. Both irises look as if god's hands have put ponds into them, including a reflection of the interlunar as her pupils. The prettiest eyes, the stare of which I could bare for long night hours. A loving yet overflowing with hatred and woe.
Having to see them filled with suffering and anguish, just as if those two moons were now drowning in the depths of the ocean, I could sense the coldness of tears rolling down her cheeks. Feeling as if my limbs were too numb to move, yet overly pain enduring to let go of the adrenaline anaesthetic. My fingers twitched as I try to look up at her once more. See her smile again. See those white teeth of hers, between two peach tint lips in the shape of a slight grin.
– Why would I? Why should I take the only thing which matters to you? -
I asked, trying to stop my eyelids from closing while looking at you, my angel. Your golden hair conglomerated with blood clots, making
moonlight reflect on it as if red light had been pouring on us from the sky. The sharp bayonet adding a few metallic undertones to the redness of your skin. You looked ravishing with all those red splatters acting as a blush on your cheeks, a cheerless grin with a blood-painted smile. Oh, my precious dove, how could I not get fooled by your astonishing grace and dignity mixed with the scent of cherries blossoming.

Please let those scarlet droplets forever emblazon how heartless a woman can be.

Now looking back at those vague memories, I do not feel any remorse nor compassion towards your angelic beauty lying lifelessly right in front of me. Seeing the blade sticking out from your chest titillating shivers start to go down my spine. Blue from your eyes now deepening into a greyish mass, making their lustrous appearance escape the currently empty shell which your body has become. As I lightly step onto your spine, the sound of bones breaking under my weight causes my whole body to tremble- I love it. Even more obedient than you could have ever been- there are no such words which would articulate the great thanks I owe you. Your beautiful smiles, charming tone, the velvet of your skin right against mine each and every night; what a backstabber must have you become, thinking that one strike was enough to have me lying lifeless?
Giving me such a precious yet useless item- a sharpened bayonet with a hilt made out of dark wood shining in the light of lanterns encircling us. Ensuring that I die with it by my side, not able to fight back, having me feel helpless and defeated. Become like a quarry to a great hunter such as you would entitle yourself. Bewildering how the tables have turned, isn't it? How a prey can fight back in an unexpected turn of events.