Photo by Tony Detroit on Unsplash
The full moon called, sung a siren call deep into the far-off. Mists, magic … mayhem, murder. His anger grew at what he couldn’t control. The rustling trees were like laughter, the crickets’ chirps and frogs’ croaks from the lake edge mocked his helplessness. He, who stood against nature, leveled forests, walked without restraint into the very world he would destroy come daybreak. … Would have destroyed come daybreak. For this time, the murder and mayhem would be his own. The moon wasn’t going release him this time. The twilight creatures snickered behind him.
(words 94; first published July 3, 2022 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words)