By Constant pain shearing through,
Heavy, sore; the lids flutter.
A sight of no sight; mere darkness,
Rest her eyes, she shuts them tight.
Banging, ringing, high pitched;
A pounding noise,
Beating against the drums.
Vision stolen, hearing reaped.
Filling the mouth, the taste of mud.
Or, is it blood?
Could be both.
Laying senseless, as though dead.
Contemplating blankly on what remained.
Numb, drenched in a pool of blood.
Shivering; at this state, is that even possible?
Legs fettered, and hands flail.
Torso decorated, with cuts and bruises.
Old or new, no one can tell.
In and out of consciousness;
she calls out, silently, to an almighty she never prayed,
reciting the verses, from a book she never read.
So, the all-powerful answers.
With a glimmer of hope, a shimmer of light,
Cracking into her cold dark night.
Help has arrived, she presumes, a rescuer or two;
reaching inside for words, or a gentle coo.
Choked by own effort,
the imprints on her throat feel fresh.
Mark of the stranger’s claws,
flaunts there like a necklace.
She peeks through bloodshot eyes,
For a glimpse of her knight.
Dire stench fill up her nares,
A mixed odour; of fear, and of death.
Not to the omnipotent, it seems,
The call–
diverted to the monster’s lair.
She stares, dumbfounded,
at the familiar silhouette, by the door,
Of, her known stranger.
A perfect build, quite a body he bore,
Six feet tall, or, perhaps more.
Eyes of a demon; a flavor of lust,
Not for her body, but for her blood.
“He knows I am still alive.”
In shadow, always veiled his face,
His presence still finds the heart, beneath her chest.
Beating along the bang in her ears,
Blood rushing to her head,
Engulfing her insides with hatred.
Those paws gnawed in deep,
but never reached her mind and soul.
Besmirched, yet, they sit,
Flashing images of remorse.
Writhes and wrests, against the bonds.
An attempt, so petty, her body doesn’t budge.
Fear and anger brewing within.
A defeated warrior, waiting to be done in.
Tears mixed with blood, at the edge.
Crying; in her state, is that even possible?
His hands reach above his head,
Clutching tightly onto a hefty thread,
Like, he clutched onto her neck.
A breach in the momentum.
So sudden.
Right then, her eyes shut blind,
never to open.
Thud!
Thud!
The club or it could have been a bat,
meets her where her forehead sat.
Her rigid body, flinching with each hit,
Like fish out of water, hard to resist.
“Dear, whoever you are,
One more hit.
End it.
You raped me of a good life,
Take at will, now, what more you desire.
One more should be enough,
You merciless monster!
Just one more, and
I might even pray for your redemption.”
Her skin rebels, disgusted;
As a finger caresses down her chin.
A hateful contact, yet she submits to;
Hopeful; in her state, is that even possible?
His touch-
Filthy, yes, but warm it is.
A warmth shared by the same species.
Henceforth, she embraces,
Her final touch of a human.
His final touch of victory.
Couple hours or more, she laid,
Stiff, bleeding, half-dead,
The sinner didn’t even finish what he had started.
Slowly, she advances into the great unknown.
Shrouding in guilt, assuming it to be a fault of her own.
Just like that, her story ends.
Never to be heard or be claimed.
Neither, to be spoken nor avenged.
She was aware, but, in the end,
Fear and hope; were her only friend.
