A Tale of Utter Fear

Death is closer than you might imagine.

The steps become ever closer.

A chill runs down my spine, the hair on my back stands up. “Is it my turn?” I whisper discreetly as a whimper escapes my mouth. “You never know,” my friend looked me in the eye as frightened as I was. He continued,” They look at you with such pleasant eyes for the first few years than they snatch you and do the deed before you can even plea. It’s horrible, truly.” This only gave rise to more goose-bumps and my already pale skin turned even paler. Could I ever escape this cage? Could I escape my own death by the hands of another who was oh-so-powerful?

“Shhh!” all my friends sing in unison. “He’s here.” No one needed more information. We all knew who we all feared and we all knew the one individual who we spoke of with such terror that a chill ran down our spine even imagining his face.

“Go to sleep” they all whisper inconsistently and before we know it a great hush has befallen us. Only the barest of breaths can be heard even those muffled so that he may not hear them. Though, he is not one to fall for such cheap tricks. He sees all and knows all.

Seconds turn into minutes and minutes into hours before even more silence is heard. I try to open the barest of my eyes to catch a glimpse of what might be happening and I regret it that very instant.

A hand is coming towards me.

I scream and scream to no avail. My friends also scream in fear but they have no power in front of the almighty that holds the knife above our necks. He grabs me with such ferocity yet delicacy I do not understand the motive behind his cause. Why does he want to kill me? What wrong did I ever do to make him angry?

He takes me through corridors unmanned and tunnels that have no end. Will this darkness ever see the light?

Suddenly, an illuminating brilliance surrounds me and I’m greeted by my deathbed. Ever so swiftly I’m laid down and bound by hands with a grip that has no match. No matter how much I struggle I know that my death is here. I cannot escape my fate at the hands of another.

I try to cry but tears don’t come through and I’m left wondering what my fault in all of this was. What wrong did I ever do to be born like this?

Alas… such questions are never to be answered and as he slits my throat the whole world goes blank.

Habibullah

was exceptionally happy today. The new stock of chicken that had come was surprisingly more healthy and juicy than he might have thought. As he again made his way downstairs to the storeroom he wondered how many chickens he would have to slaughter today. He shrugged in annoyance as he was never the one to be good with math.

One down. Innumerable more to go.

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