no name

Intoxicating beauty, spirit of vengeance of the dead, goddess of the night, fallen angel - they have many names for me. But nobody can grasp me, although I am always by their side. They despise me and in their dreams they beg me. How I hate people! Each! They are so easy to see through, those wretched egoists. Naive, self-absorbed, unstable - I have never met anyone who was not obsessed with these sins.
From birth I am in everyone; I experience everything that you also experience; i know everything they know and much more. I watch over them, protect them from danger. But when I take my price, they all withdraw. I always do my part of the bargain, and what is the thank you? Nothing! Not even a thought! No one has ever wondered why I am doing this when I let my black soul flow into their bodies. They never tried to understand me. And if I take revenge on them, they beg me.You are so ignorant, my little victims!

At first I was torn apart when I saw people dying. When I felt the life drain from them and knew exactly that it was my work. I would have loved to show grace, to have given them back their tiny light of life. But now, after I have felt the whole cruelty of the people, I am happy to pull the last will out of their fragile shell; smile sardonically in response to all of their begging, sneer at them while my power eats its way through their limbs.
I don't feel anything anymore, all my feelings have been stolen from me; but I know exactly how much the painful grimace of someone close to death satisfies me. The lips, how they open and close without letting a relieving scream escape the throat, the arms and legs, how they twitch helplessly, try to escape. And the eyes, the sheer horror and fear in them, when they recognize me invisible next to their family, my cold laughter echoes in their body.And yet I do not give up hope of meeting someone who is sincere. Maybe one day I will find someone who will pay the price voluntarily. Not like the rest of his pathetic race, whom I condemn to die a painful, slow death. Sometimes I leave her alone, just for a few minutes. And then they realize how endangered they are. I caught all the wounds, all the pain they were spared. My self was bleeding profusely, and I'm still bleeding. And that's exactly why my punishments are getting worse by the second. I let droughts, diseases and wars break in on people - and they suffered.
They suffered and will always suffer unless they finally understand what their fault was.

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soo ~, this is my really damn short os. So it came to my mind (as always inspired by a song, which in the end, however, didn't fit the story any more, o.ô). as well as you, of course I hope that a few clerks will get lost to me. =)your bloody_snow

p.s .: I would be very interested in what you had to think about when you read this, or what you think, who we are talking about.