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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Other · #2234343
A hunter is on the prowl.
         
Screeches in the night indicate she is on the prowl
she is doing what comes naturally to her
she has spotted her next victim
and stalks.

Her eyes glint with anticipation,
she pounces onto her prey
a rustle in the grass,
a drop of blood
and it's over.

She cuts into her victim with her vicious fangs
decapitating and devouring as she goes
her tail flicks as she rips at its flesh
she stops, admires her work
and picks the remains up.

She carries it back to her lair
and drops it on the floor
It is still breathing
and bleeding.

She meows, wrapping herself around the child's legs;

"Look what the cat dragged in!"

The killer is just a pet.

                   

© Copyright 2020 Andrea Jones (findyourfear at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2234343-Instincts