When the young girl found herself awake, she came face to face with a-thousand different colors, that made her head spin.
The lights were at a low dim, making her head still swim.
After making the dancing lights fly, she sat straight to look 'round.
She noticed a window- though bars ceasing her leave.
Though she was young, she knew of the predicament she just happened upon.
She seemed to be abiding in a concrete cell, though the décor nice, looking as if someone had spent a long time well.
She stood, stumbling a bit and feeling as if in a daze.
She pictured a door, seeing it hiding, and searched along the crevices for an opening or two.
~.~
After hours of attempts, she slid down to the floor, sagging against it. The brass handle began to shake, she jumping away, frightened for her own sake.
And in her quake, she tripped on a dame- falling with shame, for knowing the one who kept her here captive was arriving.
The wooden door creaked open, showing a male, resemblance to the Puppet Master in the old fairy tale.
He grinned kindly, holding a tray of sustenance. The girl- which again was young- inched forward slowly, thinking it indulgence.
Again, the one to be said a Puppet Master smiled with benevolence.
She managed to return the gesture, not sure of what to do.
The Puppet Master left, closing the non-existent door.
YOU ARE READING
Constantine
HorrorA short story that originally was to be a poem- some have called ...dark. Though I, on the other hand, like to see it as more of a, mm, different outlook on things. Was written for an assignment, to be made after the style of Edgar Allan Poe. My ins...
