-:They Have Told Lies:-
Mon Oct 8, 2012 12:48:47 PMThe crisp night air is consumed by a full moon. Darkness recedes at its lustrous touch. But, not enough to brighten the entire neighborhood. Such a bleak place this is. With neutrally colored houses and the lifeless people to match.
With every step he takes, there is a leaf to give off his movements. To let everyone know that he has arrived. A warning to the adults. A nightmare to the teenagers. A siren’s song to the children.
Then, a voice.
It’s a childish and innocent sound. One that swings about the atmosphere and passes through houses like dancing thieves. Robbers that will snatch away the kids.
The song continues, and he picks up the pace. No longer walking, he begins to bound. One. Two. One. Two. Step after step he strides and soars.
His big ears flop. His towering form is well over ten feet in height. Dark, matted fur consumes his body. His large feet slam against concrete. Cracks form. Crevices divide the streets. Children skip after him. They look overjoyed. In a trance, their eyes are void of color. Eaten away by a blackness, as though each orb had been filled with ink.
Parents had been hopeless to stop their children from following him.
The sky suddenly shades a dastardly red color. With a bloody shade, clouds of gray abruptly swirl away. The moon itself is even overpowered. There is nothing. What used to be a dreary painting, the canvas has become that of complete red.
That once childish voice becomes a guttural growl as it lowers an octave. A demonic noise is produced as he continues to sing through fangs.
Suddenly, he whirls around and snatches one of the children. He crushes their tiny body within his massive hand. The claws tearing into the child’s fragile figure. Not so much as a scream is released as the trance has done its job. He brings his monstrous face up to the kid’s, and then opens his maw. Ready to feast.
The other 20 children continue to sing his song, swaying from side to side as they do so.
But the sound of a cocking gun reverberates throughout the neighborhood, and then silence. The singing comes to a stop. But what startles him even more is when the sky returns to its original form. He closes his mouth and turns his head to the side.
Standing several yards away is a silhouette. The only things that can be made out are a top hat, a pistol, a billowing scarf, and a trench coat. Every other feature is hidden by the shadows. And when the shape takes a single step forward, the surrounding street lights shatter.
And the only form of light that remains is from the full moon.
With every step he takes, there is a leaf to give off his movements. To let everyone know that he has arrived. A warning to the adults. A nightmare to the teenagers. A siren’s song to the children.
Then, a voice.
”Here comes Peter Cottontail,
Hopping' down the bunny trail,
Hippity, hoppity,
Easter's on its way.”
It’s a childish and innocent sound. One that swings about the atmosphere and passes through houses like dancing thieves. Robbers that will snatch away the kids.
The song continues, and he picks up the pace. No longer walking, he begins to bound. One. Two. One. Two. Step after step he strides and soars.
”Bringing' every girl and boy Baskets full of Easter joy,
Things to make your Easter bright and gay.
He's got jellybeans for Tommy,
Colored eggs for sister Sue,
There's an orchid for your Mommy
And an Easter bonnet, too.”
His big ears flop. His towering form is well over ten feet in height. Dark, matted fur consumes his body. His large feet slam against concrete. Cracks form. Crevices divide the streets. Children skip after him. They look overjoyed. In a trance, their eyes are void of color. Eaten away by a blackness, as though each orb had been filled with ink.
Parents had been hopeless to stop their children from following him.
The sky suddenly shades a dastardly red color. With a bloody shade, clouds of gray abruptly swirl away. The moon itself is even overpowered. There is nothing. What used to be a dreary painting, the canvas has become that of complete red.
That once childish voice becomes a guttural growl as it lowers an octave. A demonic noise is produced as he continues to sing through fangs.
“Oh! here comes Peter Cottontail,
Hopping' down the bunny trail,
Hippity hoppity,
Happy Easter day.”
Suddenly, he whirls around and snatches one of the children. He crushes their tiny body within his massive hand. The claws tearing into the child’s fragile figure. Not so much as a scream is released as the trance has done its job. He brings his monstrous face up to the kid’s, and then opens his maw. Ready to feast.
The other 20 children continue to sing his song, swaying from side to side as they do so.
“Here comes Peter Cottontail,
Hopping' down the bunny trail,
Look at him stop, and listen to him say:
"Try to do the things you should."
Maybe if you're extra goo-“
But the sound of a cocking gun reverberates throughout the neighborhood, and then silence. The singing comes to a stop. But what startles him even more is when the sky returns to its original form. He closes his mouth and turns his head to the side.
Standing several yards away is a silhouette. The only things that can be made out are a top hat, a pistol, a billowing scarf, and a trench coat. Every other feature is hidden by the shadows. And when the shape takes a single step forward, the surrounding street lights shatter.
And the only form of light that remains is from the full moon.
(ノಠ益ಠ)ノ ┻━┻ (ง'̀Д'́)ง
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