Nestled in the corner, no one takes notice as the old doors swing open, many hardly know we exist. The shadows conceal us, we live in the rubble, and we thrive in the rubble. He walks in cautiously and slowly, he walks over the fallen furniture and broken glass. This building’s former beauty is alight in his eyes.
We are wolves, and he an ambitious lamb.
We stalk the darkness he ventures, he believes himself to be alone. He looks behind him; we are there, right by him, looking him in the eye, he see’s us not. The rusted window offers him light, the light that we must avoid, a gentle stroke is given to him and he jumps in fright, we have been taught that to play with your food is wrong, yet like every sin, it has its pleasures.
Pleasure and Sin is why we are here. It is why we are trapped here; it is why he cannot join us.
We stalk him as he continues on his courageous walk. He finds are beds, but pays little interest, he is anxious, we smell it. He stalks past the walls we once called sanctuary, ingrained in our blood are these walls, just as our blood marks these walls. We were like him once, curious beings searching for our own thrills. But we are not like him now, he is weak, he is innocent, but he is guilty.
Guilty to us and that is why we stalk him.
He reaches the heart of the building, we are ready, and he pulls open the large door, its rusted metal creaks and wails in pain. He looks into the room that his curiosity revealed to him, and he sees us, and we surround him.
He is gone now, he has become we. And we are the Sinful, we are the hopeless and we are the lost.
Do not become us.