Reads
About Indie, love triangles, and destruction
Not about Ninjas
Faces
Of fabulous inventions
Scrap paper poetry
The Girl
Is trying to figure out who she is one day at a time.
more?
Loves
Frowns on
Disclaimer
EXit if you hate it.
Greedy guts
...written on 2008-10-02, @ 11:39 a.m.
A cold stone pedestal is pushed, like mountains from tectonic movement, jaggedly from the ground. She lies prone, belly protruding, like a some sort of dying whale. No animal could scream like this as the blood trickles down her sweaty thighs and dribbles off her stolid bed.
"Help!" She squeals as she rages against the loss of her carefully cultivated offspring. "Please Lords, have mercy!"
They might have, had she begged instead of demanded.
Who knew that broken limbs could be a relief? A desperate sob accompanies the first. She continues her demands. Each limb is twisted, snarled in the blood of her beloved child. Still she cries out. A desperate weeping has accompanied hers all this time. As her neck snaps, the sound intensifies.
The God buries his blood soaked hands in her hair and screams as his brethren turn away from him. No one else shall ever have their power. Love or not.