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We are the stone rahs, the ones that first
made their presence known. We are the predators living in the hills.
Her mother knew of us, hear our stories, how we crawl down in the middle
of the night. Under the darkness we will rip the flesh from your
body, our teeth like razors slicing through to the bone. You will
sleep whilst we feed, when you awake you will see half your flesh removed.
Only then will you feel the pain. Pain beyond imagining as you are
consumed, still alive until we bite into your heart.
When her mother talks about the rahs, she
remembers her daughters fear of the noises in the hills. The stories
of boogeymen that come to attack. But these weren't just the fears
of a child, we are real, we are the dangerous creatures ready to strike.
We let her learn about us, we wanted her to know what was coming
for her, what would feed off her body as she dies. Others we don't
care, others can die without knowing. Her mother still fears
us, she speaks of the rahs living in the hills behind her house, she hears
the cries and you can hear the fear in her voice.
We will come for her one day, she will be
the first on the list. We will feast for days, and people will drop.