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Rated: 18+ · Poetry · Horror/Scary · #1232426
About a killer picking up a victim at midnight.
A dozen silent bells swing through wicked skies,
And the touch of midnight opens new darkness and evil,

An unkindly empty street is shrouded,
Thickly covered by a cold invisible mist,
Iniquity roams strong tonight,
A sin will be entrusted to the wanderer of darkness,

A wide and open place it is,
No white, but for the fading streetlights far away,
Frantic action strikes the silent air tonight,
No free soul will leave unopened,

Quietly through the eerie atmosphere,
Gentle footsteps echo in the freezing night,
Delicate and even, a woman walks the path,
And vultures’ shadows emerge,
Expanded through the ghostly vapour,

With loudness comes unevenness, she hurries,
Increasingly frightened footsteps expose her,
An elfin beauty in the dim moonlight, scared and alone,
She has felt the icy breath of evil,
Skulking in unknown crevices,

The deep thud of skin on smooth stone,
Shining black heels lay still on the footpath,
Heavy breath and thundering thumps, she runs,
And she scurries her eyes,
For a midnight surprise,

A fatal mistake, the snap of a bone emits sparks,
The figure of brilliance is damaged,
Thick rough hands surround her elegant face,
And secure a seat across her painted lips,

Without struggle or scream she is whisked away,
Crisply and cleanly into coarse shrubbery,
And the flick of his wrist marks her end,
The thin lines of red crawl gleaming down her pale neck,

Splendour lies dead in the rough bush,
Unnoticed, unaided, but not unmarked,
Blood spilt from her neck doesn’t lie,
She’s a victim of midnight surprise…

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