Excerpt: Illusion of a Greater Good

With the moonlight acting as the sword against night’s opaque blackness, Matthew makes his bed under a tree in an unnamed forest. The world’s scenery fades away from his view, and the earth sings its soothing lullabies in his ear. The warmness in his heart permeates into his being; Matthew’s home and its sacred occupants form a fleeting image, which drops away when he falls into a necessary sleep.
When he opens his eyes again, the sky is still the ink black, and Matthew realizes he is screaming. A man stands above Matthew’s defenseless body, carving a deep wound in the shape of an X in his chest. Matthew feels no pain, but there simply has to be. The amount of blood astounds him greatly. His thoughts flow as calmly as a quiet stream, and he smells Death’s comforting aroma and he feels its icy hand. He gazes upon the face of his killer in hopes of what? Mercy?
The murderer’s hands are shaking, and, through the moonlight, Matthew sees the weakness or humanity in the man’s face. His silver skin drips with perspiration and a salty tear falls onto Matthew’s nose. Matthew feels the bubble of laughter form in his howling throat, but darkness deeper than uncertainty dominates him, and he is gone.