Once Was a Killer

I stand, waiting, out of the dappled sun light. Listening to the hollow timpani that is my stomach, the adrenalin coursing through my chest, telling me 'its time' My neuronal switch 'clicks'. I am no longer inert, I am hunter. I have smelled the air and read its menu. I have stretched life back into my stagnant limbs The smell is strong, close. A young doe stands on the edges of her grazing family. Young, healthy, unseasoned. When I pounce she will Freeze. Making the kill easy. She will be easy I stifle a memory. I have lost so many on the hunt. Sometimes, I get too close and they scream, causing agitated stares, that force me back. Back to my hunger. Twenty tries since my last kill. Twenty times I have salivated at the thought of my hunger being satisfied. My preening delayed , like a peacock whose feathers no longer meet the expectation of a mating ritual. Slowly. Slower than slowly. Time no longer exists for me, or for my kill. I skulk, each foot testing its ground before being planted down. Hips sway low from side to side, like an exotic dancer. Both of us earning our living. My heart rips through my own blood, ejaculating it into a bursting surge. Now is the moment. There will be no other moment. I lunge, connecting with flesh. Soft flesh. Power pulls my victim to the ground. I smell the sweet sweet smell of metallic ooze, dripping slowly, like molasses from a wooden spoon. I hold my kill, turn and drag her away Her family still graze, unaware of their loss. Unconscious of my facile victory. Time soon enough to savour their haunted calls And what of my kill? Picked up like so much road kill. Just another unsolved homicide to add to my growing file. And what of me? I am once more content to wait for another sound to grow deep within my soul. For I am Tiger, Hunter. I am God!