Death. There isn't quite an exact way to describe exactly what it does to us and makes us feel. It's an insignificant part of our life that many people push into a secluded corner in a chest and forget about, until they lose someone they care about. It remains there until a death causes the chest to fracture and crack, as the grief and pain wash in over their lives and slashes its way through everything they've worked to achieve.

When someone you know dies, a small part of you that you never knew existed dies with them. This small space needs to be filled with something and many turn to physical comfort or something that will numb the pain temporarily but which will surely cause consequences in the future. Others choose to shroud themselves in their own suffering and misery until it even envelopes them completely and they resemble something that no longer is the person you once knew. They lose sight of themselves and walk farther and farther away from the life they used to have, now cast away in the chaos and turmoil behind them that they can no longer repair or get back.

But people like this, they've got nothing left to lose when their hearts darken and their vision and thoughts cloud with the sounds of death singing through their veins, and burning a trail down the path they walk. They become empty shells of people only carrying on to destroy what others love the most with a feral determination that sets them apart from other people.

These people are deaths hand-maidens - serving his will and guiding his hand. They become enamored with him and lose all insight of their own minds. They're smart though, they can hide the wildness that resides within them and show you what you want to see and tell you what you want to hear, beckoning you deeper into their grasp.

Then there are the ones with minds warped beyond repair who savor the feel of blood running through their fingers and the dim look in a pair of eyes as someone dies. The ones who enjoy the resistance of sinew, muscle and bone as they twist a knife deeper into the chest of another all the while laughing at the burble of blood escaping the lips of their victims as they struggle for one last word - one last plead of mercy before they become limp and never come back.

These people ensnare you and chain you to them, enchanting you to do their bidding until you're digging your own grave into the earth and placing your own gravestone before they bury you themselves with the sins you have committed for them. You don't realize how far you've been dragged in until the snap of jaws rips you apart and into the oblivion of death by what seems to have been a trap you willingly walked into.

Death. That simple five letter word in a vicious cycle that is only stopped by life, which is still little resistance and a nuisance, much like an annoying fly. Death marks you and scars you, certain that you will never escape and which no one ever has.

You need to watch for the special ones, catch that glint in their eyes as they get what they desire and tear down what you care for; watch as they destroy the world you have around you, piece by piece and revel at the tears streaming down your face with almost a childlike curiosity - curious to why you're crying even though they've done you a favor and released you from the anguish and ordeal of life. You need to watch and be careful.

Remember to lock your doors and windows and draw your blinds.

By the way, I just thought you should know you look really different from the confines and the pitch black darkness of your closet.

Night.

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@RedmoonBluestar