that moonlit night

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Blood was spilled under the full moon. 

They clothed the tree trunks, painting the green shrubs black. 

Three pale furred creatures stood in the midst of the murder, panting with their mouths bloody. 

The smallest of the creatures sang her song, a prayer for the dead while the others listened for the loose breath of any escapee. 

A soft cry escaped the confines of an alabaster trunk. 

The smallest one stopped her song and shifted, hands replaced paws and her blood soaked fur turned to stained skin. 

She opened the box.

She did not know that she had found what she would have been searching for her entire lifetime. 

Gagged, bound with tears streaming down his face.


















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