The Stories Within Their Eyes
She stands back from the crowd, watching the families and friends, the lovers and the children as they walk. Their movement is quick and happy; their laughter fills the air as they unknowingly pass through the doors to their demise.
Their screams, when they come, are loud and torturous. Yet she watches on as the monsters continue to feed. The screams of their victims die down until there are only a few left – the unfortunate ones, the ones that have time to understand and work out what is about to happen to them.
But it is not those that she watches, it is him. It is the stranger in the room that she observes. He, too, watches, his eyes flickering from one monster to the next. Each time they attack and drink the victim’s blood, he shuts off his vision, turning his head in disgust.
Nevertheless, she continues to stare. Fascination burns within her as she watches the change of expression on his handsome face. She sees the look of despair as yet another human falls under the hands of the monsters. Their cries echoes against the stone wall, making him flinch. But no one notices this, as the recoil is so minute – only she sees it.
Then as the monsters finish, she turns to study them, and the unrighteous satisfaction is all she can see burning within their eyes as they stand and turn to the man that did not belong here.
“Why did you not feed?” they ask, confusion lacing their tones. As he stares at them, his expression is passive, his eyes are calm, no longer holding the disgust and despair they once had.
“You know it is not what I wish,” he answers, his voice as calm and forced as his appearance. Then they turn and move away, not caring to continue their exchange. It is then, she understands, that they do not hear the sorrow in his voice, that they do not see the torment that is once again blazing in his eyes.
But she does because she watches him from afar. She sees the small changes, she notices the way he moves, the slowness of his gait and the aura of sadness that surrounds him.
She realises, as she continues to survey, that he does not belong here. That he is lost, still searching for his place in the world, for the place that he can truly shine. For his light here is so faint, so undiscovered. Nobody notices the dreams he holds, the intelligence he possesses.
Yet she does.
Then he looks up, his gaze landing on hers. Curiosity glows within his stare as he watches her watching him, and she sees them, the stories that live within his golden orbs. She sees the centuries of untold truths and desires, of wants and losses and finally, the unrelenting loneliness.
She stares on, as does he, the lost, lonely man. Then as he looks away, his gaze fixing on something new, she continues to watch him. She stares at him curiously as he turns away, following the monsters into their chamber. The aura of unhappiness surrounding him once again as he follows the people who did not know him, not as she knows him.
As he disappears from her sight, she moves back into the darkness, fading into nonexistence once again. Yet she remain watching where he once stood, her own stories burning within them, sitting, waiting to be acknowledged.