Fangs of Fury
Moonrise over the trailer park, and the world starts to rot at the edges—Porch lights flicker, sirens cough in the distance, street dogs bark and then vanish into hedges.Somewhere behind the old supermarket, the dumpsters twitch as the shadows conspire,A fever builds in the grass, a pulse in the soil, a friction kindled to fire.Every story the grandmothers muttered about rabbits—soft, sweet, gentle, small—Tonight gets gutted, turned inside out, their innocence twisted, a lie after all.Somewhere a man walks home stinking of whiskey, boots trailing yesterday’s filth,His feet crunch the gravel, a flash of white blurs, but his mind’s on his belt and his guilt.
He doesn’t see the first pair of eyes, red as old brake lights in the fog,Nor the second, nor the pack building, silent, plotting along the abandoned road.All teeth and malice beneath matted fluff, claws black with a week’s collected blood,There’s nothing left of carrot dreams—just a taste for the kill, a hunger for flood.A soft hop across cracked pavement, and the first attack is a slash to the thigh,His scream dies against fur, fangs burying deep, while moonlight hardens in the sky.
Elsewhere, lovers pin each other against motel sheets, sweat tangled with fear,A noise in the parking lot—shrugged off until it’s clear.Glass shatters, the air thickens with fur and shrieks,Hands grip for weapons, but rabbits swarm in streaks.Fangs slice through calves, through arms, through throats,Claws drag the screaming into the bathtub, blood swirling, sinking hopes.No one expected the violence, the rage, the delight in every wound,Not from animals sold as Easter gifts or conjured by children’s cartoons.
Under the broken sign at the minimart, a woman fumbles her lighter,Doesn’t see the ears in the gutter, the wet noses sniffing the tires.Her keys drop—by the time she bends down, it’s too late for prayer,A dozen sets of teeth dig into her ankles, devouring flesh, ripping through hair.She bites and kicks, but the bunnies are rabid and mean,Her last vision a sea of fur, all gleaming eyes and obscene.Down every alley, across every lawn, the slaughter multiplies,Rabbits, jaws open, fur black with carnage, savoring their surprise.
Children peek through the curtains, mothers bolt every door,But latches snap, boards split, fur pours through every floor.The attic fills with twitching ears and gnashing teeth,Fathers wield shovels and bats, but the blood runs beneath.No one spared for charity, no prayer answered tonight,Just the slick scrape of claws, and the kiss of the bite.They swarm a priest in his vestments, rip through a preacher’s chest,Even the faithful go down, a thousand fangs pressed.
No science can explain the shift from prey to executioner’s art,No expert with tranquilizer darts can piece together a single heart.The world laughs at the idea—a bunny, a killer, a harbinger of pain—Until the bodies pile high and the stories can’t be contained.A sex worker’s thigh gnawed to bone by the highway’s black edge,Her last lover’s corpse spread in the median, another message in red.In the college dorms, rabbits wriggle under the doors,Panties and condoms shredded, fear flooding the floors.No sanctuary for anyone, not the lonely, not the adored,Just the certainty of teeth, the certainty of being devoured.
By midnight, news vans burn in the chaos, reporters trying to warn,Only to fall with microphones still hot, flesh and fur torn.A rabbit mounts a newscaster’s neck, blood sprays on the camera lens,Viewers at home drop their popcorn and realize how this ends.Across the world, the tide is turning—pet store cages forced wide,The streets fill with the softest monsters, the ones that never lied.Sisters strip naked, smeared with blood, fuck on rooftops while bunnies swarm below,Knowing orgasm is better than dying cold and slow.Every taboo breaks open in the smoke and the din,While bunnies chase, mount, bite, and win.
The final survivors barricade themselves in Walmart’s fluorescent hell,Watching fur press against the glass, eyes that promise nothing will be well.Food rots on shelves, sex stinks in the air,Some beg for forgiveness, others tear out their hair.It’s not a story to tell children, not a fable fit for dawn,It’s the murder of the world in the form of what we’ve always looked down on.So the rabbits fuck and feast, the cities burn and choke,The ashes settle on faces twisted, on bodies half-joke.
There’s a lesson somewhere, hidden in every mangled corpse and twitching ear,That cute is just a mask for the patient, and nothing good stays here.Fangs of fury, stained in lust, bathed in bone and moan,Tonight, the bunnies own the night, and everyone else is just alone.