A little girl watches from behind the curtains as a Pied Piper named Death plays a tune. A silent tune immune to children. The little girl watches as the brand of an inverted torch pulls everyone towards the couple that possesses it. Blood is everywhere, their screams echo throughout. No one remembers afterward, except the girl. She cries alone that night because her parents are no longer there to comfort her.
The girl has grown now. She understands Death’s melody but isn’t affected by it. She was innocent before, too pure. She is corrupt now, too evil.
She sleeps without Death having to sing his lullaby. Sometimes, she looks at people around her, wondering who will make the fatal strike.
Her time comes and she is unprepared. Unprepared for death but prepared for a battle. The God in question would have chuckled at her defiance, but sadly he isn’t around anymore.
As she walked out of the dark corridor, she felt disappointed. Not because of the lack of the fatal blow but because of how ridiculously easy it is to turn the tables around.
It feels like she is having a constant battle with Death’s remaining puppets. It is not even worthy of calling a battle, but she does anyway. A girl can hope, right?
The world is imperfect without Death, as it could give rise to people like her. However, she can’t deny that she and Death are not that different.
Cruel and Evil indeed.
Written as a response to Thursday Photo Prompt over at Sue’s Daily Echo. Check it out here.