Lamb of God

vintage-1653145_1280

 

With night closing in, every lungful of air I inhale makes me dizzier as my steps become laboured. Up ahead of me, beneath the full moon, there’s a blonde wearing black tights. Can’t say what she looks like, but from behind, she makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I’m transforming again. Said I’d try my best to keep it under control, but these urges always seem to get the better of me. Following her at a steady pace, she reaches the top of the hill before me. Turning around, her eyes gaze into mine, and then she’s gone. The moon grows big. It colours everything with sadness and hidden truth. She is of the moon; that much is known, but the rest is withheld, just like those hips of hers that seemed to be singing my name. Then I’m descending. Her allure led me into the night, and now I’m alone racing face first into the tigers and demons that are steadily growing bigger as I rush downhill on the verge of tripping over my feet. But then everything dissolves, and in a brilliant flash of white, I’m stood in a field of corn. To my left is a barn, and to my right, a wall of trees that leads to a dense forest where the animals are sleeping even though the sun is out and the sky is clear and blue. In the barn resides a pack of wolves. They’re hungry and restless, and yet for some reason, motionless. At my feet is a baby lamb; it’s sleeping, and seems so peaceful. For some reason I’m unsure of, I give it a kick so it wakes up. Looking the picture of innocence, I kneel down and pat its head. Rubbing its nose against my knee, I smile as it appears to smile back in its animal way. Picking the lamb up by its ears, I place its neck under my armpit and squeeze as hard as I can. Kicking its legs, it lets out a scream, but I’m indifferent to its suffering. Squeezing harder and harder until it falls limp, I walk over to the barn and toss it to the wolves. Nodding at me while licking their lips, I turn away and walk into the forest. Not long upon entering, I come to a clearing where the blond girl from before is resting on a blanket. Sliding down those black tights of hers, she spreads her legs as beams of light shine upon her from above. Touching herself where it counts, I walk towards her; only I’m shrinking. Growing smaller and smaller as she flowers, I try to run from her, but she sucks me in until I’m snared, and as the animals stir from their slumber and circle her as she vibrates with sheer joy, all traces of me are soon gone. 

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