Facade

I trusted her smile,
a quiet kindness framed in sharp precision,
beneath her sterile white coat —
never seeing the shadow that gathered behind her.
She lived in the stillness of quiet places
where logic whispered louder than words.
Her hands steady, her gaze like polished glass,
her passion lit by the fires of healing and discovery—
the one I followed, because I needed to believe.

One day the air grew thick with panic —
spreading like a bushfire —
of fresh murder.
So I came to visit her one day for information.
But she wasn’t there.
In her place stood a man—dark-haired, sharp-angled,
eyes like knives cutting through shadow.
His half-buttoned shirt clung to broad, sculpted muscles
As if carved from marble, smooth and cold to the touch.
The heat rose in my cheeks,
red as the hoodie I pulled tighter around me.

He said he was a relative, visiting from abroad,
tending to the home while she herself was out at work.
“What’s your name, sir?” I asked.
“Harold,” he smiled, “Harold Hyde.”
Strange—didn’t she live alone?
I didn’t care. He was woven fine, like silk—
smooth, alluring.

His words dripped honey,
venom curling beneath every sweet drop.
Every compliment a key, unlocking doors
to places my modesty warned me to never wander.
He dangled secrets like sugar cubes,
Leading me through darkened halls and flashing lights.
The air was thick with smoke and murmurs,
faces blurred in shadow.
their gazes heavy as the weight of his smile.

I learned of bodies
not by touch, but by watching them
sway and writhe in neon stage lights—his included—
and raw, seeping worlds peeled back,
their shadows dancing to rhythms I couldn’t follow.
And I— eager, young, and foolish—
reached for the sweetness,
only to taste bitterness dissolve on my tongue.
But there was more to him than velvet words
and shadows that danced at his feet.

He stalked the streets
Leaving trails of bodies in his wake—
not grand, not glorious, but petty.
Each precious light snuffed in cold, careless hands,
a passing inconvenience to his hunger.

With every step, his touch also grew bolder—
lovers stolen for a night,
discarded like ash at dawn.
His sounds of pleasure echoed in darkened rooms,
and every promise he made crumbled like burned paper
the moment their backs were turned.

He spun lies and gifts like poison threads,
each one thrown at me to keep me lost,
to pull me deeper into the web
while he slithered away,
a beast baring its fangs, blood still fresh on its tongue.

I came to his door one day seeking answers, expecting him—
but this time, it was her.
Her eyes ringed with sleepless nights,
her gaze never quite meeting mine.
Her words slipped out, cool and careful,
but the cracks were showing in her smile—
each sentence an effort to bury the truth.

I pressed her,
but she only sighed,
fingers trailing through papers like lost thoughts.
She flinched when I mentioned him,
hands stilled on the desk,
but her voice remained steady as stone:
“He’s no one to worry about. He’s family.”

I could feel the lie beneath her skin,
the weight of something darker hidden away,
and though I left,
the question burned behind my eyes:
What was she hiding?

But night has a way of changing things, and when I returned, it was him I found.
His fingers slid too close,
a whisper in the dark,
his request hanging like smoke in my lungs—
bitter, burning—
and I choked on his charm.

“Stay a while,” he hissed. “Good girl.”
His smile pressed like a blade to my skin
as he pulled at the lace of my conscience,
unraveling all I believed to be mine.

His belt—a serpent coiled,
awaited my teeth,
and his crotch, close enough to steal my breath.
But my trembling hands pushed him away,
and I escaped, slipping through his fingers,
from a mouth that never learned how to accept “no.”

I didn’t stay to watch him simmer, then snap—
the monstrous roar that tore from his throat,
and the man in the mirror fracture.

And then I discovered the truth—
two faces, one skin,
her eyes folding into his,
his smile the curve of hers.
I watched her body crack like glass,
bones shifting, betraying her,
the serpent’s skin pulled tight around both.
The truth unraveled in flickering screens,
lips curling into themselves,
her silence stitched with his laughter.
A life caught between clicks of the reel,
until there was only him—
a shadow collapsing into itself.
One became two,
but both were him.

Beware the serpents and their smiles,
their webs spun from silken flattery—
their hands are not hands at all,
but threads that pull you into darkness.

Beware the fangs behind the charm,
the silky smooth voices that flatter.
They wear skin like a mask,
and you’ll never see the teeth
until they sink into your skin.

When they offer you the world,
remember this:
a snake, a wolf, a demon,
all hide behind honeyed words.
And the world is always too heavy to hold.
Run, before the door clicks shut.
Run, before the darkness comes.