Sweeping the floor, glide on feet that mock us

He comes prowling the streets

when dusk has slain itself into midnights hour.

He stands a shadow of slate against ebony

Barely visible. Hardly noticeable. But ever so tangible in mind.

She walks, lone and cold, his presence  known.

But what does one do? A fawn in the dark. Lost, may I add!

Clutching her blouse -the only protection her skin holds-

Those heels click uneasy on stone.

Owl eyes flit about in terror.

He prowls close. Or does he sit perched afar?

Toxicity has risen, the air burns the lungs.

Night is creeping into her further.

There! A shape flickers! Here, it lands!

She drops to her knees, beginning at the feet of death

mercy, mercy! Don’t let me die! Don’t let me die!

Now he is upon her!

Body convulsing, screams peeling back the black paint lying on the world.

Her futile appeal to his humanity echoes against the midnight hour.

It slopes through the street, streaking in it's nude horror through the town.

Silence.

Her eyes open to nothingness.

It's silhouette dancing with the insects beneath dim street lamps.

Nothing.

Nothing more than fear

Fear of the unknown.