Hello gentles and friendlies folks, i am a policeman tasked to patrol at night the streets of my city. I can’t tell you the name of my city, since i don’t want you to be in danger. The stories i am about to tell you happened some time ago when i was patrolling the streets, and i saw something under a bridge.
A few months ago, the chef of my police departement says to me, “Hey you, there is some trouble at night recently and i need someone to watch the streets of our fair city at nightfall.” I said to the chef “What have happened recently mister?” The chef responded to me “We have found the body of a fair maiden that was drowned in the rivers some meters in the currents afters the bridges.”The words that the chef used were a bit old timey but i know that the chef has something for old gothic litterature.
So i got tasked to watch at 18 hours to 6 hours the streets of my city, and especially under the bridge and next to the rivers. I am deeply sorry if i don’t use PM and AM but that a custom of myself thank to my autism. I made each nights severad tour between each end of the streets near the lake. This street which i can’t tell you the name for security, was named after some heavenly imagery wich made even more so ironic the accident that happened near the river. The watching hours were quite pleasent since the wind of the street free from most passerbies, gently touched my skin, like some kisses from some old and lovely ghost of young loves passed away. The few stars of the dark and omnimous night sky, were like some guardians angels patrolling the streets with me. The streets were like some great and majestic streets of some streets of ancients cities long lost in history like the legendary city of Atlantis. All that nightly beauty haunting the nights like the ghost of some young maiden waiting for a wedding day that will never come, put me in a false sense of security and ignite in me the flame of poetry. But suddenly as quick and a has unexpected as the apparition of some wolf deep in the wood, i saw a vivid light of the some peculiar orange next to the rivers under the il-fated bridge. The fact that the light was oranges, was indeed of the most curious and peculiar style, since the street of this city were all of a more usuable white.
I put myself next to a wall to not be seeing by whatever was lurking next to the river, and of wich i don’t wanted to taunt until i could watch it to calculate it’s strenghts and it’s weakness. I asked myself in my poor policeman head, “What nightly felons or lunatic under the brights full moon, could have the courage or the lunacy to emit such spectacle of lights? What obscure and terrible force, could allow it to not fear to force of the order of wich i am an herald, and allow it which is a force of chaos to roam freely under the covers of that nights sky, that make each streets brights with the fairy of electricity, and shine with the “je ne sais quoi” of some gem or crystal.
Suddenly when i was silently approching the god dammed bridge, i heard the howling of some innocent young maiden getting attacked by a dangerous foes in the night, like some wolf slowly approching an innocent lamb lost in the dark forest. And finally i see the monsters, i see the dragons, i see what was the cause of my presence here, me an innocent policeman, that was not prepared for that firely horror, that human fires burning brights as the flame of hell, that man made of : song, dance, and hellfire.
That man looked like some folk singer, that have just come out of the land of brights green grass, and colorful rainbow wich is named Ireland. He was normal looking, with a fairly normal suit, and a fairly normal skin, but his facial hair, were not made of hair, but of burning. He’s mouth was full of fire and was alway singing some old song in forgotten languages.
He was trying to rob the maiden of her earthly belongings, but the maiden, haunted by a fearful ghost decided to jump into the rivers. After jumping into the rivers, she’s began swimming even tough the rivers was going most of the work, due to it’s powerful stream, putting her out of reach of the nightmarly demon. I followed the woman swimming in the dark rivers, and when i was sure that the ghostly being, would not see me, i put the young woman out of the waterly bed of the river. The survived but lost her mind, and began to pass her time, by singing song in some ancient language long forgotten by the time and by humanity itself, like her attacked himself. There was no further accident but sometime in the nightly covers of the nights when i pass near to a bridge or a river, i can heard some song and see some light of bright oranges.