Airborne

She's in her closet, taking short, shallow breaths into her blanket to muffle the sound. She thinks she'll be safe.

She is mistaken.

Death is in the air.

The air waves and cyberspace have been rife with breaking news from all over the world along with wild speculation about what terrorist group (or opposition party or enemy country) is behind the host of deaths.

The first body was found five days ago: the chest, gouged and torn, the heart crushed and silent.

Since then, the body count has surpassed the population of several countries. If it weren't for the rather violent nature of the deaths, one might be forgiven for believing it was some kind of pestilence.

But, really, what kind of sickness can rip out a heart?

Each person died with eyes wild and open. Despite the apparent impossibility, autopsies indicated no weapons were used. Flesh was found beneath and hanging from the nails of each victim, which, initially, gave hope to law enforcement and the public.

But, alas, it was their own flesh, their DNA alone that was found.

Mass hysteria ensued. The leaders of nations took to their podiums to calm and soothe. They may have had some success, were it not for the one who spoke from his private office. Alone with his computer. He ripped out his heart on camera.

I did so want to keep from becoming Instagrammable.

Some thought it an elaborate hoax.

Until it happened to someone they knew.

Fingers, and guns, pointed in all directions. Threats of retaliation for attacks as yet unproven and unexplained abounded.

Everyone was suspect.

Yet, none was guilty, at least, not for stilling the beating hearts.

That was me.

If I could laugh, I would do so...heartily. I've waited so long to make my presence...felt.

Beware, for death hovers, invisible, in the breeze that just caressed your cheek, tickled your nose.

None save the unborn, perhaps, lacks darkness within. Evil. One might even say the seeds of evil. My seed. I seek only to reclaim what is mine.

The innocent need not fear.

She takes a breath. I seep into her brain and whisper. She does as she is bid.

Get it out. You have to get it out. Scratch, Scratch, rip, rip, dig, dig, pull, pull, Squeeeeeeeeze.