The woman called for her love desperately

Hoping he would come back inside

But he stood, stock still by the forestry

Far away from the firelight

His eyes scanned for shuffles and movement in the shrubs

Any day now, any minute he could kill his love

One flutter of an owl, and he would commit

The murder one’s been planning, he would submit

The woman stood near the doorframe, her fingers feeling for metal

She closed the door tightly, instincts screaming like a kettle

In a bustle and flail she packed all her things

A lamp, a bottle, and a knife that gleamed

Without preparing for shivers, she stepped out the back door

Fleeing from the one she once cared for

The woman saw a flash, a scurry in the forest

Her blood felt warm and her body took control first

She ran, skin barely noticing the layers of white

She ran, for herself, for goodness, for her life

The lamp lit the way through the shadowy darkness

A spotlight to whom wanted her carcass

A smack, a boom, erupting in night

The woman ran, her lamp loosing light

A puff, a shadow, dark fingers spread

Enclosing the darkness, and all who tread