Articles

The Murderous Man

As the old withered man slowly trudged through the damp mud-stricken snow, which was in large piles, he carefully swivelled around so I could see his wrinkly face against the dark eerie sky. There was a bright light. Could it be a star? No, it’s too bright. Maybe it’s a street lamp? No, that’s even brighter. I looked up into the mans glistening water-blue eyes and saw a glint of life flickering into my face, as if his eyes were a fire. I peered into his black shiny pupils and saw his past. Torches floating above houses and tree’s, motionless people lying onto blood-infected ground, with dark red liquid pouring out off big gashes! As I came back to the present, the mans eyes were now filled with tears, tears of joy...