He walked long and tall, hair pulled back by a mixture of sweat and grease. The crowds of people parted as he strode his way in

as if they could sense wild white hot anger that pulsed through his veins.

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Smoke from a cigarette clasped in his mouth, writhed  like a snake into the star lit sky.  His eyes narrow filled with madness from within. He was hunting, scanning the crowd for his prey. Oh he wanted to make a night of it alright, just have a little fun.

 

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She moved as if in slow motion, every man and women who cast a gaze her way would falter just a little. Her beauty could take the breath from your mouth. She moved as if she was floating above the dirt trails worn in the uncut grass.

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He felt her move before he gazed on her beauty, somewhere inside deep down under the scars and the sickness, he felt something other than hatred. Oh how she moved. He wanted her, that’s all he ever wanted before he ever knew she existed. Watching her from the shadows he knew that this angel, this women this... witch was casting a spell that would make him walk the fires of hell for her and he would be helpless if she spoke his name.    

 

 

Forcing his way towards her, like a wild cat stalking it’s prey. She turns into him and they gaze into each other’s eyes.  He almost stumbles back as she reaches out and without a word takes his hand. 

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She pulls him behind her as she heads out away from the noise and bustle into the darkness.  

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It was that easy, his mind raced with excitement. Who she was didn’t matter, like the others before remain for the most part nameless. Lost girls in a world that had no place for them.  For a second as the night wrapped around them he could have sworn her eyes glowed, but the heady mix of wild flowers, and freshly trodden grass seemed to envelop his senses as he stumbled behind her drunk by the way of it all.

 

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The fair faded from sight, they walked into the long grass not a word was spoken. The woods cast long shadows in the moon light on the bank of the river, whose banks were hidden by the haze of steam. Bullfrogs calls broke the sounds of the crickets as fireflies twinkled like the stars above them. They fell into each other. And in that moment, his mind cleared as he felt her soft lips brush his. His head filled with images of her pain, an impossible understanding of a life he had never known, two souls connected, intertwined. He could see as if in a dream the pain of her childhood, feel the sting of salty tears running over fresh wounds  from the hand of her alcohol soaked piss stinking father.  And in the dirty sweat stained sheets he could see the flashes of light from the storms that lit the night sky.

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He tried to speak, but she pulled him closer Tongue probing his mouth, he felt the need to break her slide away from him, as if every kiss was washing his sins away. The full moon hung low filling the sky as lights from the fair swept the river below as if they were search lights from the chaos he had made. Her memory, of hopes and fears, filled his head, and for the first time in his life he wanted another to live, to have hope, to feel free as a bird. The lights danced across the black water...

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The sunrise bathed the world in its golden light, he woke feeling her draped across him, her black hair across him like a net. How had this happened, the night had seemed like a dream but now he could taste a metallic familiarity of blood in his mouth. He had been chewing the inside of his mouth.  He would give her the gift of a few more hours of life. And then, oh and then...

 

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She rolled back into the grass, her eyes were like an eclipse, rings of light around amber gemstone. 

“You ok”  

His voice was gravel and broken glass.

She smiled, pulling her hair from her face.

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“Your got a name?”

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She raised her arm, a dull silver chain with a scuffed plate with a name etched into it. She had no voice, could she talk, a mute? Or had her daddy beaten it out of her one scream at a time. He didn’t care, he liked her a little more. 

The others he had taken had begged for release, she would not.

 

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He stood stretching his arms to the Golders sun as she danced to a forgotten song playing in her head. The dew cool on her legs, birds called to the dawn. The woods behind them beckoned them in. So they followed the well worn dirt trail into the shadows. He strode down the path, she followed. 

 

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As they walked, his mind wandered to the past, his first still imprinted in his, as if the memories were burnt into his cortex.

 

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She had red hair, dirt streaked face, she found him in the road house a few miles down the road. He had been fighting and drinking for the best part of a lifetime. Whisky smoke and weed circled him. The bar was sticky with stale beer to his touch. She came to him, begging for a drink offering him a real good time. Her red hair reminded him of a time when the summer had scorched the woods long and hard till the very sap ran from the bark. He was young, and the girl from down the trail had come around. Her hair was the same flame red. Her and her kin had burnt when the wild fires came. He could still hear her laughter from that time. Oh and how she made him feel before the loss and the smoke.

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And then here in the bar years later her southern drawl telling tales of love and loss. She was working him with the lies and promise. He smiled and drank from it all. He could see what she was, what she was doing working him for drinks, using him. In his mind the words came to him. He knew she must pay for it, she must pay for her sins, her whole life was  a lie.

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So he took her back to the cabin on his bike and stripped what god had given her to the bone. Her pale skin washed with her own blood. His hands knew what to do, it was if he was a puppet, and the devil himself was pulling the strings. His mind burnt with the pleasure of the work, he had found his calling. His alter the blood stained mattress. 

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And now as they walked deeper into the woods, Trinity following him like a faithful dog. He broke a smile. The world around them seemed full of wonder and life. The old gods needed a sacrifice, his body had their faces and signs inked into his skin. He must honour them, appease their savage hungers. They reached the cabin, his bike hidden under an old rotting tarp. Wood pile seemed to be moving, covered by a sea of life crawling in the sweltering heat. He took two beers from a rust covered ice

box from a lifetime past. She took it and he drank in her

sweat covered body as she took from the iced bottle.  They took shelter in the cabin, pictures of his family looking down from broken glass picture frames as they were as one once again i the dark searing room. The old iron bed frame creaking under

they're labour. 

   

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He awakes to the sound of crickets, the light had gone from the sky and the room was lit only by the moon light through a dirty broken window. She was gone. He swung from the bed, pulling on his oil stained jeans. 

The door was open to the woods and out in the moonlight he

could make out her far in the clearing dancing to the sound

of the night.

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He picked up a rusted blade from the table and walked out to the girl with no voice. As he closed in on her his pulse raced, she looked different. Somehow she seemed to be glowing from within. His hand closed in on the wooden handle of the knife. As he pulled it from his daddy’s belt used to beat manners into his younger self. He closed in on her and as she raised her arms to mother moon he pushed the knife into her soft warm body. And the light in her  eyes went out. 

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Wiping the sweat and mud off with his shirt he finished covering the grave with brush. Shovel on his shoulder he walked back from the sacred ground back to the cabin. His needs satisfied. She had been a silent lamb to the slaughter. The gods would sleep from the feast he had offered. Protecting him from the sick world beyond the tree line.

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The dogs searched the marsh, the police closed a net around him as they came deeper into his land. The papers and radio reported on the missing girl. Trinity had caught the imagination of the public and this time they would not let it go. They came to him after a few days. The trail lead them right to his door. He tried to run, the bike leading them through the woods deeper and deeper till he was backed into a corner with nowhere to run.

The rains came and soon came the flood.  The mud gripped him as if the very land wanted to stop him from escape.

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They dragged him into a cell, then the trial. The jury swore to uphold the law and were sickened by the pictures of his offerings. Lips sealed tight and chained like a dog he was judged  under the whine of fans in the courtroom and the gift for his toil was a promise of death from a sweating fat southern devil who’s words on his fate were told like a Sunday sermon. 

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The whole town came to her funeral. She was laid to rest in the small white washed church in the centre of the sleepy town. The church was full of strangers, onlookers who’s morbid curiosity was stirred by the details of her end.  The priest bumbled through the sermon, punctuated by prayer and hymns that were mumbled by the godless folk of the town and press.

Whose only thought were of the wake in the local bar. Wishing for the dirt to be finally throne onto the cheap wooden box.

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In his cell he raged and fought the fate that he had been given. His mind was the true hole in which he lay. His walls were etched with his own blood and bile in symbols to his gods, asking for forgiveness at his capture. The light came in via a small window out of reach. He was done, finished and now he was alone to

his end.

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The people of the town watched the t.v. For the news of his death, they had put the mad dog down. No rest for the killer in the woods. They praised the courts and the sheriff who had dragged his bloody face to the world. Famous forever his image would be kept for all to see. 

 

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As news came in of the exacution beyond the fences and barbed wire he drew his last breath and went on to meet his gods in the fires of hell that he would welcome with open arms.

 

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As he landed on the burning rock the face that met him was Trinity. Her eyes were burning flame. She smiled and as she touched him his skin blisters and burns, his screams are met with her laughter, oh she had an eternity of pain for his sickness to welcome him to his end.

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Blackmanwhite 2020

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