A mind wretched in devotion to the art of destruction, the dictation of others to set it unhinged is all was needed... The wicked top was spun, the spiked wheel rolled, the sails unfurled, sailing on a sea of sickening blood. Putrid and rancid, the cursed ones body fails, it drowns in its own entrails, bones crushed into dust, the marrow rotted oozes from the cracks. The tightened skin is bonded to restless demons, wriggling and squirming in horrific delight of the wrenching pain the movement causes. Brutally and unceremoniously carving pathways under the skin, in the rain, in the soul, tear it all, all apart... The flesh is ripe and dark, split apart too easily, the fluid flies free of the disgusting body, riddled with uselessness and ugly bitterness. Pulped into mash the once human mess is now but ooze to be wiped off my shoes. The decimated thing is now left as nothing, only a mess to be cleansed. Brilliant flames lick up around the bed, their happy dancing bringing a roar of an end to the forever. The room consumed, the wretch eternally erased, everything is done, the end is now.
Sheggorath the skooma cat
· Wed Apr 03, 2013 @ 06:53am · 0 Comments