Let’s play a little game: What or whom am I (you read the text below and then tell me who or what you think the story is about).
The night comes in all its glory, blanketing us from the day’s pain or sorrow. No more shell I witness the light being shined on the misery of the world for I am breath the sweet, cool, damp air of the nocturnal forest. In the hours before the wake I will feel the boldness of my desires, I will allow myself to feast upon the nefarious of the least lasting populace, for who will miss the contemptible walking the streets in search of harm. The night, will sooth the soul of my phantom as I reach through the ages of the days no more and the time that will come well pass those who walk the light of today and yet to be of tomorrow. Stained on the ground in a pool of crimson is left after my desire for the children of the night to scavenge through for their measly little taste. Power of seduction I will use to sooth the frightened to give of themselves to be of one with me until no more they are. The night is my beat that my heart will ever know for ever more.