Unspeakable

A Trembling Heart

The faint noise of a rhythmic thud filled my ears. I could not understand why this stopped me from moving on, but I could not ignore it. A waft of a sweet, metallic scent made its way to me, tempting me to move forward to find the source. I was never curious, its all so bland around me, no colors, no temperature, no feeling, just nothingness everywhere.

Although I could still not see through the dark corridors, I could hear the rhythmic thumping go faster each time as the sickeningly sweet smell was scratching at my mind. I could finally find a small stretch of light, but what awaited me was nothing I would have expected. A pile of clothes was scrunched together at the base of the stairs, slowly moving. With each movement, as small as it was, the scent of blood grew stronger. It was seeing this that made me realize just what the sweet iron scent was: fresh blood.

The rapid heartbeat was getting weaker, but at the same time, the small shift underneath the clothes was hinting at the struggle to move, to rise, to live.

It was only when a flash of white, wrinkled skin slowly stretched underneath the stained clothes, that I heard a small laugh. Almost like a chuckle that was trying to mingle with several small forced breaths. But the sound did not come from the bundled mass on the floor, but from a small shadow perched on top of the stairs. The thin shadow of a person was slowly making its way down, creeping upon the mass on the floor, making it tremble, even more, the thumping of the heartbeat increasing more in tandem with each step down the stairs.

As the shadow grew closer, it passed underneath the spots of light coming from the covered windows and I could see, I could clearly see for the first time, a sight so mesmerizing for all the wrong reasons. I could see myself, the thrill of the hunt, the joy of the kills, all visible in the upturned pair of lips hidden beneath a mass of moist hair which sticking closely to the white skin, hiding the real features of the person beneath it. But was it really a person coming toward me, or was it something else?

I could faintly discern its heartbeat, but it was faint and slow, almost completely overcome by the louder, more violent thumping of the figure on the floor. But the rhythmic tick of the sound was growing more definite as the stairs came to an end and the figure stood at the base.

A shockingly thin, white hand moved towards the heap on the floor and slowly entangled its fingers in the grayish hair speckled with blood, eliciting a high, piercing sound that ended as abruptly as it began as the head was raised in one swift movement and the pile of clothes took the shape of an old man.

The shivering soon stopped as another hand moved a small, slightly curved dagger around the contours of the neck, leaving a trail of red liquid flowing silently to the already dirty floor. All that could be seen among the splutters of blood, were wrinkled blue eyes forever frozen with a look of fright in them, the same kind of eyes that I enjoyed seeing in my very own creations.

A smile crept up on my face, I could not help but join in the satisfying moment of a souls release, together with the figure standing in front of me. It was at that moment that a pair of onyx black eyes moved towards where I was.

I knew I could not be seen, but that pair of eyes were looking towards my direction so steadily and without hesitation as if knowing exactly where I stand. No feelings were clouding them, not guilt, not pleasure, it was simply dark and cold, impenetrable to the inquiries of others. The smile on the shadows' figure slowly came to a halt and with a flick of the hand, a dark jacket covered the head as the figure made its way towards the old door, not even looking back once.

I knew I should leave, after all, this was all just a small stumble in my road, in my travels, but I could not resist, moving my eyes over the dark figure now darting swiftly in between the house, on the side of the darkened road. I could not help myself but follow, first with my eyes, then with my whole being, and I shortly found the way toward an old apartment building seemingly ready to collapse at any moment.

I walked toward the locked apartment door and moved right through. Material things such as doors or walls could never stop me, as they were simply a product of the mind only humans, or more exactly the souls in them were impossible to maneuver to my will. Otherwise, if I willed to believe there was nothing there, even if others saw it as before, for me it would not exist.

A pitter of water drops reached me, as I turned and headed towards the source of the sound. A small figure stood underneath the falling water as the mirrors around lay broken around the floor, water and blood blending together and staining the white tile of the bathroom floor.

The figure slowly moved out from beneath the shower and once again looked in my direction.

"Who's there?" the figure harshly asked, but this time I could tell for sure that she could not tell where I was, as her eyes darted warily from one side to the other of the bathroom.

I almost gave a response, but I knew that I could not, and should not interfere with them. My whole existence was something that was against the very nature of everything they knew and mingling with them would only be trouble. Nevertheless,  I wanted to learn more about the feminine figure in front of me and from what I saw until now, I could tell this was going to be an interesting pass time.