The Hunger

The slumbering ebony Beast awakens, famished and in need of sustenance.  He quietly glides into the night;  his golden eyes glinting in the full moonlight, he scans the underbrush for an appetizer.

As he slinks along, he picks up and devours a few small woodland animals, which   stimulates his bloodlust. His true prey – the virginal maiden, whose flesh and blood he craves.

He catches the scent of innocence in his nostrils, and in his urgency, charges off through the forest to find its source.   He comes upon the edge of the forest, which opens onto a wide, gently flowing river and pauses a few feet from the margin of trees.

He sees the porcelain skin of a young woman, glowing against the dark waters.  The bright moonlight shimmers in the water in her wake as she takes a night swim.  She moves towards the bank and leaves the water, her lithe naked form glistening as the water runs down in rivulets, her perfectly sculpted breasts heaving as she breathes.  She senses a change in the air around her.  She pauses and cocks her head, straining to listen,

She peers into the forest in the direction of the beast, who is hidden from her view behind thick foliage.   Her brow furrows beneath her flaxen hair.  Seeing nothing, she turns back to her task of drying off and puts her garments back on.

The Beast breathes raggedly but quietly as he watches her.  So transfixed by the exquisite vision he sees before him that he falls in love with her that instant.  He abruptly lost the desire to satiate himself on her tender flesh.  Bewildered momentarily, he shakes his head to clear it.  He turns away, pushes down the unfamiliar feeling and sets off in search of some other morsel to satisfy his hunger.

copywrited 2010 – Casey at The Sprightly Writer

About Casey

“the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’ ~ Jack Kerouac, On The Road Again
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