The Red Moon
rises, casting an unnatural glow on the fog
pouring from the darkness. Streets in the small
hamlet, normally bustling, sit empty.
A man and woman
break the silence, words spewing from their mouth,
venom leaving deep wounds that fester, often breaking open
exposing infected flesh underneath skin.
A man slams
the door, leaving the tension behind.
Pausing, he notices the fog laden night
and it’s glow, causing his skin to turn a hue of red.
A woman watches
the door slam, the sound ringing in her ears,
daggers hanging in the air
as they tear through her heart.
The fog parts,
pierced by red eyes belonging to an unknown entity.
Birthed fresh from ground, he
The red gaze withers at first touch.
A man walks
a familiar sidewalk after nightfall,
spurred from home by requited anger.
His footfalls are purposeful but quiet, oppressed by the night.
Dagon’s watch begins
amid the murk. He notices not the fog.
It is ever-present. The Red Moon his;
shadows are his to command.
Silently, he begins to prowl, to hunt.
Fists clenched as
he moves along the treeline,
moving in and out of shadow,
aided by the night holding the Red Moon;
he moves silently through the night.
A woman plucks
daggers from the air, sharpens them,
gently placing them in the recesses of memory,
caressing the steel, readying each for it’s next use,
making sure blades are razor sharp.
The Red Moon
pulls her from her task to the window;
she gazes across the road into the shadows cast
by the trees; the darkness seems to move,
extending it’s fingers unnaturally into the gas lit street.
A man tosses
blades at no one in particular.
Seething, steam releases as he walks
the red night, parting thick fog with each step.
A foot fall coincides with a blood curdling scream.
His head jerks
towards the sound, but he sees only darkness
creeping towards the sidewalk. He does not see
Dagon; the demon wraps himself in darkness.
The man’s blood runs cold as he feels something pass through him.
His red gaze
tears through the shadow and fog
as darkness envelopes and folds into his movements.
Light becomes shadow as he preys, feasting on the glow
humans seem to enjoy. Showing teeth, he sees a lone man, walking in the light.
His purpose revealed,
he locks his red gaze onto the lone figure;
a familiar feeling washes over his grotesque form.
Shadow and light merge, creating a blinding darkness.
Dagon feels the cool shock of the man.
The man sees
shadow as light, light as shadow, holding hate in his hands.
Dagon slips into the crevices of the man’s mind, filling in gaps
left by unsheathed blades. A toothy smile parts the man’s lips.
He looks into the shadows, turning back from whence he came.
She clutches daggers
as she hears the knob of the door turn, followed by the opening of the door,
she begins to unsheathe the blade. Seeing his expression gives her pause.
Night seeps into the home, but it goes unnoticed. She smiles as he approaches.
Her eyes are locked on his face.
His arms open
inviting her into his embrace. The blades drop from her hand.
She looks at his eyes, noticing them for the first time.
His eyes are crimson.
She is unable to make a sound.
He begins to slip into the crevices of her mind
Tightening his grip, he offers her a wide, toothy smile.
And leans in for a kiss.