. . . . . My bloodshot eyes simmer with lust but my back is rigid with fear.
I have stood upon the crumbling edge of sanity and hurled myself into the
depths. Echos of what I was are burned away in the purifying heat of what I
am. The stigmata still sting in the scathing light of the sun, but here in the
loving glow of the mother, they ripple with ecstasy. I have tasted of evil and
found it wanting. I can see you, you know. Every twisted breath you take,
every drop that hides beneath your paper skin. My veins boil for that crimson
sweetness. The taste of your sinners flesh tickles my memory with razor
tipped hands. Leaves swirl outside on a wind full of empty promises while my
hooves strike flames from your unflinching earth. Alone and forsaken. So now
I wait. I am the hunter of the unholy; it's what I invented myself for. Invisible
wires pull you skin it a thousand different directions and my taloned hands
hold every one. Marked since birth with my desire, waiting long for you. My
glory sears you eyes even as your frail body tears beneath my assault. My
teeth shred layer after layer of you soft yielding flesh. Your sin floods my
senses as the locusts swim outside in their golden armor. If I had left you a
throat you could tell all the world of my glory. You could taste of my body
and lose yourself in the perfect ebony blackness of the void. I watch the light
slip from your eyes and breath the scarlet for that seeps from your skin.
You will live inside me forever now,child. At long last...
...you are mine.
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