Warming my hands against the flames I watched the shapes begin to materialize out of the murk. It was always foggy by the river, day or night, and the warmth and light the fire provides never failed to draw them out. They would come in search of food; flesh and marrow, preferably human but they weren’t all that fussy. As ever though, their hunt was to be in vain.
At first I lamented this task but, upon realising the cruel necessity, I took pride in my work. Paid to travel to the latest area they had been sighted, setting the trap and putting them out of the misery many perceived their existence to be. In truth the creatures had no concept of misery, not after the conversion had been completed, at least.
My latest companion sat beside me, loyal and obedient. His tail wagged, deep brown eyes staring at me, waiting for the command. The shapes grew closer, I could hear their moans, even make out faces. I gave the nod. “Go on boy.” No hesitation. He set off towards the lumbering monsters. The bell on his collar ringing, attracting their attention, drawing them to him.
This was the one part I still hated, but it was the most efficient method. Picking up the remote I flicked the safety switch. “Good boy,” I whispered, detonating the explosive fitted to his back.
Response to the Word of the Day Challenge prompts: foggy, light, vain, lament, travel & wag
MS Poetry 