Thursday, January 15, 2009
Watching her prey struggle only reminded her of her hunger. But she would never trade a satisfied stomach, for the joy she derives from the little sadistic play with that lone unwilling actor. What's a few minutes more? Why bother? Her prey isn't going anywhere. Her attempts will be futile anyway. Ever the masochist as usual. She chides herself, as she remembered her promises of long ago. Promises of change.
What change? She didn't need to. Her victims meant nothing to her anyway.
Traipsing across her self-weaved web, across broken promises, across subtle lies, across malicious intentions, across justifications, she inched towards the prey. Forget playing nice. She was hungry. And the prey went limp.
i blogged @
12:35 PM