Dawn of a Dead Day-Tuesday Tales
Hello Fellow Fathomers!
Today's Tuesday Tale involves the word or theme, "dawn". I chose to continue with my usual installments from my current thriller work in progress (WIP) Blue Ink- The Skin Stalker.
Maggie pulled into the lot of the open space park. She arrived first in the parking lot. She took one last sip of her morning beverage and pulled her keys before she exited her vehicle. Birds chirped and a few remaining crickets sang for the sunrise. She went around to the back of her SUV to release her bike from the rack. She rested her bike against her SUV before she donned her helmet and riding gloves and checked the security of her water bottle cages once more. She walked her bike to the beginning of the desolate path, anxious to begin her ride. She needed her blood pumping to drive away the chill in her bones. She had no clue why she felt so edgy that particular morning, but her anxiety ran deep."
"...Anticipation filled his bowels with delight, as the reminiscent smell of death triggered giddiness in his black soul.
The day dawned perfectly. A touch of dew kissed the grass and there was no wind. The Skin Stalker waited for Maggie to appear just as the sun rose. As she walked toward her vehicle, the crisp air caused her to shiver slightly. She pulled her warm-up jacket closer around her body against the chill of the morning. She checked her bike and the bottles, satisfied with their security on the SUV. She unlocked the door, got inside, and pulled out of her space.
The Skin Stalker followed her from a satisfactory distance as she drove across the quiet highway. He wondered how long it had been since he had a human sacrifice for his master. He counted the years as he kept pace behind Maggie. He never tired of the exhilaration of the kill. The “innocent” victim unwittingly forfeiting their life in place of his primary target.
The Skin Stalker followed her from a satisfactory distance as she drove across the quiet highway. He wondered how long it had been since he had a human sacrifice for his master. He counted the years as he kept pace behind Maggie. He never tired of the exhilaration of the kill. The “innocent” victim unwittingly forfeiting their life in place of his primary target.
“It was not as if any of them are wholesome anyway.” He scoffed toward humanity. As he pondered the decline of morality, he estimated he could kill half the planet and be justified. No one lived chaste lives, very few during the centuries anyway. It was not always sex, people just did not understand. It was anything they chose over righteousness. It would all lead to downfall-and more souls for his dark master.
The Skin Stalker worked to create a bigger and better audience for his master. “Come one, come all, ye who live self-serving, I have a place for you.” He allowed his true form to invade the surface of his human host for a moment as he patted his stomach with large, gnarly, hands. He allowed his sharp fingernails to scratch across his ghastly flesh with each tap of his fingers.
Maggie pulled into the lot of the open space park. She arrived first in the parking lot. She took one last sip of her morning beverage and pulled her keys before she exited her vehicle. Birds chirped and a few remaining crickets sang for the sunrise. She went around to the back of her SUV to release her bike from the rack. She rested her bike against her SUV before she donned her helmet and riding gloves and checked the security of her water bottle cages once more. She walked her bike to the beginning of the desolate path, anxious to begin her ride. She needed her blood pumping to drive away the chill in her bones. She had no clue why she felt so edgy that particular morning, but her anxiety ran deep."
Now that you've read my interpretation, please visit http://tuesdaytales1.blogspot.com/ for more concepts considering "dawn".
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