Below the Surface
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They say life is a living hell, but most people don't get how much of a living hell it really is. They walk around pretending not to notice the clue's that god has given them. They dismiss everything that has not got a scientific explanation for it. They are blind. Blind from seeing what is real and what is fantasy. In this life, fantasy is reality. If only they knew. If only they knew that the very ground they walk on, is home to the most darkest and disgusting of creatures that god could have ever created.
I used to be one of them, used to laugh at the stories my Father told me as a child, the stories about the creatures that go bump in night. I grew up in my own little world, letting very few in. And here I am now, standing bang in the fucking middle of an ongoing war that has been lasting for centuries, right underneath the humans nose's. I'd give anything to be on the surface again, feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, breathing in the fresh air. But I'm not, because that is my fantasy and my reality is here and now. Were out for blood. An eye for an eye he said and I couldn't agree with him more. I will kill the bastard who I used to call husband, and I will tear his fucking guts out and eat them for my dinner. He will pay, they will all pay.
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