Horoscopes a fools belief. Nothing more than to feed humanity’s gullibility. Words on a scrap of paper could not define someone’s day. Simply hocus pocus.

You sneer at a group huddled around a café table, chattering animatedly. Fingers point, hands wave, digressing in innumerable philosophical possibilities. Suddenly a bout of laughter bursts out like shooting sunbeams. Something in that sound made your heart shudder, repulsed at the thought of happiness. Hurriedly, you left the warm fog, without your cup of liquid life, back out onto the damp dreary street.

Heavy feet splashed noisily through puddles coated in a sickly oily sheen. Running across tarmac covered in invisible marbles, rubber squelched and hissed. Flirtatiously, dancing with tiny droplets that leapt up and flicked away; teasing but never giving. Your mood grew darker with every step, until you were in a shoot out with the furious sky.

Stomping up your garden path, your keys clattered against the plastic berating it for simply being in the way. Shoving the innocent face away, you storm inside hurling your bag down. You heard it land with a defeated sigh, constantly abused and never appreciated. Snatching up the slip of paper off the small table under the coat hooks you let your eyes slide hungrily over the stubborn ink.

‘Perhaps you need to release yourself from the bonds of your group, before they turn you.’

“Yeah, right,” sour words burned your tongue, as talons shredded the prediction into a shower of confetti. No one needed to know your dark secret, let alone call you out on it. Yet a small nagging whisper couldn’t be shaken from your mind. Even as you snorted at the prediction, your fingers danced over your screen.

Immediately, a flurry of responses set your phone a blaze. Shaking, trembling and squealing in pain your phone tried to leap from the table. Screwing your eyes tightly closed, you fought the urge not to give in to the demon. The demon that had already fed you it’s poison. It knew that you wouldn’t resist another sip, so addictive was the honeydew taste.

Only when the darkness crept up did you begin to feel calm. Safe in the knowledge that even the universe kept secrets, you released a shuddering toxic cloud from your tainted lips. Would things get better?

The answer came in the form of a flurry of beating wings, stirring the thin morning air. Groggily, you raised your head from the table. Clenching your teeth as biting pain shuddered down your neck. Very cautiously you pinched the paper between your fingers, snuffing out its life. It’s duty had been done.

‘In order to maintain peace and harmony, you may wear many masks.’

Swallowing thickly, you pursed your chapped lips. You were a different person around different people. Some sung high praises whilst others whispered and warned. Who were you? Who were you today? Who were you yesterday?

Yesterday you had been agreeable. Today you felt hospitable. There was no rhyme or reason, yet you felt tormented by the nonsensical horoscopes. They conspired against you, testing your patience. How far would they go before you snapped?

Just as you were about to climb the stairs desperate for a shower, a hammering shook your house on its very foundations. Deadly silence. Even your breath stilled, after a final defiant snort. Calculated steps carried you forward. A ghostly hand whipped out bringing swift death to the crow. An omen to its own demise. Obsidian, tourmaline and Tahitian Pearl feathers shimmered and shone. Building up into an explosion of kinetic energy. No longer a limp bird remained, in its place a slither of ashy paper.

‘You have killed once, you will again.’

Baffled you flipped it over searching for answers. A scrawled sentence graced your eyes:

‘Every good zodiac has a dark counterpart; the one that wins is the one you feed.’

Then the world went dark.

Gasping, rasping and desperate your lungs sucked in oxygen at an alarming rate. If your respiration rate increased any further you would pass out, a cold corpse on Hollow Street. Blinking rapidly, your brain howled in agony as light ripped savagely through the midnight vale. Icy tentacles wiped away the worlds teardrops from your face. Smearing them across your pristine rose tinted contours.

An ache so dull it barely was noticed, tapping quietly at your clenched fist. Opening and stretching your paw, you released a weapon. Plummeting, shrilly whistling, down towards hell, before clattering and bouncing forcefully off slick cobbles. That was the sound that finally snapped you out of your trance.

Once pure skin, now tanned scarlet. Devil’s tears soaked your clothes. Beads of embarrassment gathered on your brow. At your feet a body. Growing cold like a hot ham left forgotten on the kitchen side.

Demonic gouges ran heavily, revealing a platter of glistening organs. Burgundy, ruby, scarlet and burnt salmon. A feast for hungry eyes. Prepared and spread, ready to be read; the future hidden and disguised amongst the innards. Somewhere the heart had been flung, sent out to an estranged lover. Garments lay in tattered ribbons strewn across the ground, desperately trying to crawl back to give a comforting embrace. Thick silken strands of rich chocolate had flown into disarray, ragged and marred by contaminates. Though a blackbird might be proud of such a nest. Their face remained largely untouched, save for a violet bloom.

After several luxuriously loaned minutes had drifted past, did reality hit you.

Your darkness… Won.

Your hands… Damned.

Your mask… Fallen.

Your sister… Dead.