A   DEATHSTALKER   /  TAMED  BY  ONE.   &   metalrot.

it had happened so quickly ,                 & the thing was that you didn’t feel a thing. ( as easy as walking , breathing / talking. ) he was dead , you knew , because his pulse in your ears had   gone cold. though you couldn’t bring yourself to touch him yet ; couldn’t bring yourself to move him. to touch the skin that was still fresh with colour … just stare. WHAT HAD THE MAN DONE ? touched you. snuck up on you & sent an alarm blaring that only silenced when he collapsed to the ground.

you felt the iron coursing through his     hot , red blood ,    only took a tense of your own shoulders to twist something. to kill him. squeezed his insides without even clenching a fist. the forest had engulfed you & your friend , had seperated you for just a second. ( i lost you for a moment & lost myself too. ) feel the presence of a boy with unruly onyx hair nearby , covered in the same sweat & grime as you. you don’t turn to look. you know it’s him. gaze firm on the body spread on the grass , the eyes of a ghost staring in return.       ❛ ❛      i killed him.     ❜ ❜       but i almost don’t care.

@birdsrot· .

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ the  maw  of  your  fear  grows  into  a  growling,  starved,  feral  animal.  its  rage  has  no  shackles;  its  hunger  for  blood  remains  uncaged,  teeth  bared  and  fangs  dipped  in  absinthe  riddled  with  venom.  cerbera odollam  stretches  its  branches  inside  your  chest,  you’d  think,  if  you  only  knew  the  name  :  a  mere  flower  so  easily  turned  lethal,  the  thing  which  feeds  only  the  death-seeking  and  the  foolish.   (  in  a  way,  you  are  both.  )     / /    you  allow  yourself  to  swallow  (  *  &  although  your  saliva  tastes  like  rot  in  your  scuffed  throat,  you  face  holds  no  grimace  :  its  features  fell  into  a  perpetual  numbness,  an  endless,  unspeakable  hollowness  that  only  the  sick  and  the  wicked  could  possess  )  and  your  body  begins  to  shake.  after  fear  comes  disgust.  you’ve  seen  your  fair  share  of  dead  bodies  in  your  life,  haven’t  you?  then  why  are  you  so  weak?    —    is  this  just  another  test  you’re  going  to  fail,  dirty  kid?    / /     your  voice  reaches  barely  over  what’s  a  faint  whisper  when  you  speak,  sentence  quivering  at  its  edges.   ㅤ ❛     —  we   —     we should j - just go.       ❜  

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤㅤㅤㅤ for  if  someone  sees,  you’re  both  as  good  as  dead!  the  scorching  stares,  they  are  everywhere,  always  all  over  you  :  will  they  see  this,  or  will  they  turn  a  blind  eye  and  leave  you  both  alone  to  aimlessly  wander?  the  listless  vagabonds  walking  (  running  )  forward  with  no  end  in  sight,  a  mountain  you  can’t  climb,  a  road  with  no  end.    / /    you  move,  slowly.  your  hands  hover  over  his  arm  before  daring  to  touch  (  a  warning,  one  encoded  into  your  brain  throughout  years  of  screeches  and  resurfacing  memories  :  touch  is  bad,  touch  is  poison,  touch  is  a  scream  that  doesn’t  silence  itself  past  the  highest  note!  ).  and  when  you  do,  it’s  all  but  harsh,  skeletal  fingers  almost  flocculent  against  the  calloused  material.  ㅤ ❛     it’s  okay.       it’s  —  okay.   no  one  will  know.  let’s  go.       ❜    but  what  if  they  do?     —     if  they  take  him  away  from  you?   what  then?  ㅤ ❛     —    please.      ❜