I am the one who talks

I lay in wait. The darkness grows around me. I felt as if I had a key with no lock. Ace had said this was the key to my potential. These dice. “Everyone has a key. What you only need do is find your lock. Finding the key is simple. It’s only the thing you cherish most.”

My anger is my key, for I cherish it. It keeps my mind cold and my blood hot. I need these things at those temperatures because I roam the city at night, all night, every night. Where there is darkness there I am.

I am one with shadows. I dress myself in silence. My heart drums in whispers & my breath is lighter than the brush of a moth's gray wing. You may think you see me, but turn & you will find only a gasp of steam leaking from a vent. You need not fear, though, for my hate only seeks

warm air to fill the void. I move swiftly and effortlessly like a leaf in the breeze of a crisp Fall day. You will find yourself in wonderment. Am I a only a mere figment of the imagination? Did you really hear my whispers prickle the hair on back of your neck, or was it just the

the wind? I dash to and fro around the room, causing as much trouble as a phantom with a foot in each world could. Soon the confusion bubbles up to a crescendo. The plan is working. No one can hear tonight’s entertainment, a sad lounge act with a bunch of has beens. Did I win?

Yes indeed, I congratulate myself for needlessly ruining yet another evening for the haggard attendees nursing their drinks through my mayhem. One more score for the mischief monkey king.