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The Confessions of a Sinner.
Hush whispers as your sins wash across my skin. I can feel them crawling, scraping, clawing underneath my skin. The flesh tingles and rips as they find purchase through the mangled muscles and veins. They have consumed me, crawling from inside my eyes, out onto my cheeks, and down my neck. Little black creatures of Heresy.They have come for me, as they come for you. To devour all that there is. And to be resurrected again. We cannot stop this. We cannot run. They shall come for us, and the more we run the harder our punishment will be. But I cannot allow this to stop me. I must write, I must tell you. Somehow you shall recieve this message, even after I'm long gone. I want you to see. See to the real me, what I'm supposed to be, and what I can become. What I have become. I leave this here, within you. To remember.

That all of this is a lie, and to just bide your time.





 
 
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