It lurked like it always did, in the desolate, depths of the darkness, just paces away from the triumphant path, observing all who passed in good confidence. So effortlessly did it remain hidden, invisible to the usual bystander, like a ghost sent to haunt those who routinely passed by, just waiting, waiting until their backs were exposed, just waiting to sink its teeth in.
That was its favorite. That’s when it liked to feed; when the threat was not perceived, when the prey felt safest, secure, all guards down, all trust and faith in their physical senses- No, the coast is clear they thought, I can move on. That’s when it would attack, when it would strike its deceptive claws into their backs, instantly returning to its den, only to observe the residual effect of its subject’s confusion.
Its favorite part was when its prey would swivel around to be met with nothing, nothing at all, minds betraying them, longing to identify the threat, longing but finding no evidence to validate their perception. Distrust, they began to feel, distrust in their own cognition, their own senses; now that was its goal, that was what it fed on.
Time would pass, and again it would wait for its prey to pass too, internally cackling at their fear, their concern, their anticipation of attack, fueling him further, as he remained hidden and situated, not today it thought, not today, better when they least expect it, better when their focus is upon greater things, when their desires grow stronger than I, and when they forget I exist; that’s when they are most vulnerable.
The distrust of themselves would grow, as would its power over them. That’s how it kept them there. They could go nowhere else really, how could they? How could they trust themselves to such a thing?
Stay with me my pretty, it thought, stay with me and you’ll never have to rely on yourself too much, not too much at all; your existence will be limited but at least you won’t risk losing more, but at least you won’t risk gaining more.
You belong to me my beloved, it cooed, as it returned to its den, scuttling in reverse to its empty nothingness, its lurking hollow. Yes, I will be here it thought, I will always be here.
They remained. They remained like they always did.
Author Bio: Just a 23-year-old girl, totally on her own, with a passion for writing. Literature has given me the opportunity to live various lives, and I wish to provide others with unique experiences that can only be obtained through living vicariously through another character or story. Life has left me with lots of bumps and bruises, much more than the average girl my age, but I long to provide others with perspectives for their current circumstances, and potentially even connect with the reader, to remind them that we’re not all alone after all- we fight the same demons, we wage war with the same inner conflicts, and despite what we might believe, there’s hope. Though our settings and circumstances may vary, we are indeed still the very same; we are wired for affirmation and we are crippled by our insecurities. That is what I long to portray. I hope to inspire, move, stir, and motivate the reader. I’m just a 23-year-old girl who wants to leave her mark on the world.
I have a personal blog with pieces which genres vary greatly, but I do write to share them nonetheless: megambiguous.wordpress.com