Dark Days: A Collection of Short Stories and Poetry

by Chris Harris

  Part Three

  In which Nathan feels the brunt of Wrath

  The Cerberus.

  Nathan’s terror.

  As I stepped into the next chamber, I noticed

  a quiet whispering worming into my ears.

  I listened harder, trying to make out the speech;

  inarticulate as it was, it intrigued me

  and I listened to what seemed to be a greeting.

  “I can see you.”

  I stopped and looked hurriedly around, curious

  of the voice that could somehow see me when the room

  was abandoned, left to its own devices-

  “I can feel you.”

  The voice again and the accompanying fear

  that naturally came along with it, terror.

  “Where are you?”

  I asked, echoing in the high ceilinged chamber.

  When I received no answer, I hurried along,

  desperately trying to get out of this place

  wherever this may be. And as if by magic

  Or perhaps telepathy, the grim voice replied,

  “This is my Wrath.”

  Wrath. Another one of the seven deadly sins.

  I turned and sprinted towards the nearest exit,

  which was blocked by a foul beast, that writhed in blood-pools;

  the natural puddles in this place. This monster

  snorted, all three hound-like heads rearing in its wrath.

  It ran at me, but I ducked and slid under its legs.

  It howled, confused, and I ran along the next path

  But still, the voice continued, never ceasing, but

  growing louder and louder, enforcing my fears.

  “I’m watching you run...running into my awaiting claws.”