FrothyOwl
She turned the safety off, staring at the corpse that was crawling towards her feet. It growled deep in its throat, staring up at her through eyes no longer saw anything. She pulled the trigger, the blast reverberating off nearby buildings. She could hear another growl not far off. They were coming for her, and she ran. She wouldn't make it. The army of cadavers before her proved it. She knew what was coming. She had witnessed enough bloody deaths to know what was coming next.
Lisa held the stack of books in her hands, doing her best to see past the tall tower she possessed. The cashier nearest to her saw her predicament and rushed over, taking at least half of the novels for her into his own hands. He laughed as she blushed and placed them on the counter for purchase.
"No plans this weekend?" he asked, to which she responded with a slight shake of her head. "Well, how about now? You need help reading these?"
He snuck inside, feeling around the dark room without even the smallest sliver of light. His shin found his treasure for him, and he reached around wildly for the top. He slipped broken fingernails into the lid and pulled. The wet slosh of water was music to his ears. He leaned forward, dunking his head below the surface and taking deep swallows. It was like drinking gold to his parched throat.
There was a heartbeat, sweaty palms, weary eyes looking forward. In one hand, a bouquet of roses, and in the other, an eloquent note. He waited patiently, his breathing erratic. He approached, the boy's blue eyes looking down softly in confusion. The note was passed, read, and he smiled. "Yes," he said, and then a gentle kissed was exchanged.
He stood erect as their prisoner was pulled forward, his pleas ignored and his cries unheard. He was slammed to his feet as the female hunter pulled his head back, exposing his neck and face. Tears trailed down his cheeks and his mouth was a bloody begging mess. He gasped as the first officer to his hair in a tight fist, muttering a sour "Good riddance." There was a wet _snick_ and the body fell to the ground with a wet slap.
The violin's shrill note broke the silence between him and the audience. He moved with elegant grace as he played, feet moving and dancing as his fingers played the notes and his body spun. The song was high and fast, and he moved to keep with the beat. The audience was purely captivated.
The opera was boring, and General Thomas let his hand cradle his chin. Footsteps sounded behind him. He smiled as his guest sat down and leaned in close.
"I apologize, old friend," the voice said, and he was truly sorry. The blade broke through his skin, blood pooling warmly down his back. Thomas grunted with the pain, and he could hear the singer's voice slowly begin to fade away.
A breath, a whisper. The rustle of clothing as it falls to its owner's feet fills the silence. He looks up, into the bright, passionate eyes of his lover. Strong arms wrap around him, and he clings to the scent as he closes his eyes and loses himself in the passion and lust of the moment. For now, they are together, safe, and no one could posses the power to take them apart.
writing since 2012 · 9 entries · 7 days shown up
each square is a day—lit means Owl showed up.
2longest streak
7days written
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the words Owl reaches for
eyesfeetpulledwaitednoteforwardheadwetcomingbreathblademomentbloodbegintearssilence