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08-27-2013, 07:12 PM
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Gossamer ribbons of scarlet liquid coaxed forth from the depths of the ruby pond flowered upon the shivering disc of foaming crimson water, sparkling with diamond-like brilliance. Dim lights, faded theater lanterns, spilled out suffuse gold onto the clearing of charcoal grass and idly buzzing bugs flitting across, specks of pollen on the clean black backdrop. Moonlight tempted with a seductress's sly promises from the velvet sky washed the world in grays, cutting hard lines with shadow and the glistening contrast of alabaster; under the eternal night, the world looked as if to be made from shattered porcelain but for the elixir of so-called wine, the scarlet blazing against coal and silver. She detached herself from the shadows, pushing away the clinging fingers of bold ebony, a smudge of ink on a charcoal painting, the skull painted on her face starker than the cardinal-red pool. Nostrils quivered, ragged lungs full of frigid air. Mouth opened, eyelids drifted closed, hiding the predator's starved eyes. Acid dripped from pitch lips, burning ragged holes into the earth. Each step was light, free with ecstasy and joy from the whims of the pained body aching and bruised. The leaves whispered, and the branches rattled a warning. Beware, the trees sighed. Today the butcher walks, and blood will paint the blackened earth with it's precious elixir of life; the executioner, the slaughterer, the spider who continues weaving her sticky little web, slowly expanding. The hellion lowers her head to the waters of blood and flame, her eye of yellow and orange illuminated with a devilish sparkle. Tonight she would spill blood as a prayer. |
