Green Eyed Shadow

Jack repressed the headache with the back of his hand. It was already late and he was still only half finished. The words on the page spread out before him like highway that disappeared from sight before the end. 

"And miles to go before I sleep . . ." he muttered to the glow of the computer. It was the only company he had in the pitched silence of the room. He shoveled some more willpower into the furnace of his brain and began typing again. Slow at first, but after a while he settled into the flow of his mind and produced a steady rhythm of sentences. 

So immersed was Jack that he didn't realize the change in pressure as a door opened and closed in the living room. The shadow found it easy, so very easy to stand so very close to the typing man. The shadow could smell the must of a few days absence of shower on him, the oils rising like a filmy fog. "Oh this will be so very easy" whispered the blade as it slid out of the sheath and into the base of the man's neck. 

The keyboard stops clacking, the computer screen starts flickering, and in its fading glow the face of a green eyed woman without a mouth examines her work. Where lips would be press against where fleshy cheek would sit.  But alas, the man with miles to go has broken down on the side of the road. The stretch of words fades into oblivion. There is only darkness. 

The shadow leaves just as she came, without a passing thought to Jack staring into the blackness of the room.  The blade is glowing now, and soon, oh so very soon, it will be bright enough to pierce the hearts that truly matter.