With claw and tooth they gnaw their way out of the ground. Looking no better than when they died. The stammer and slosh their way towards the living taking millions of bullets and thousands of hungers before they get their taste. The sweet and luscious drink of man. The milk that brings life to all of us slips down their thought and into their bowls. Renewing their flesh and granting them perfection in our demise. Soon the diseased rise and walk among them. Spreading their vials of hell like it were candy. Barely feeling the effects of the poison released into the air they continue to walk. Leaving the bodies of their targets nothing but bone and nerve. Waiting till once again they too may walk. Now the old wrenches of the dead are anew. Full and billowing with life they turn their attentions away form the feast running form them and instead turn to their passions. Letting the blood of the newest kill slide down their skin for a little while before having it lapped up and off. And moments later the banquet hall still filled with the exotic dancers and a few corpses of animals are down to the bones. A blood bath begins to take place. The moans of plusher and passion sound in the night like the wolfs howl to the hunters moon. Reminding those who would dare defy the new gods of ancient time to keep their tongs locked and their knives seethed. For they select the most dangerous to be their companions. letting them drink in the eternal hell of being the vary thing they despised, hated and attempted to kill for glory among men, and also to receive the pleasers of women with out having to go through the horrors of courtship or partake in the ever lasting covenants that are among the righteous of the world..
 morti_cacciatore · Sat Dec 15, 2007 @ 09:46pm · 0 Comments |
