ᴃᴌᴏᴏᴅ ᴡᴉᴌᴌ ᴙᴇᴉɢᴎ

how many times do you think the world repeats a tragedy? once, five, ten times? no, more like a thousand times throughout the decades, it's a mere habit - just like the food chain. you have your predator, who prowls the ends of the earth for it's share of kill and once that prize if gained then they feed off of the prey that fall under that category - it is similar as whence the hunter hunts down the lion, never does the lion hunt down the hunter. it's the circle of life, which brings me to the notion of a mighty reaper growing eager for the taste of rich sanguine fluid.

a russian woman, so cruel as to stalk the perimeter of this enclosure for a simple meal to graze upon. the lingering plasma that tainted her pink tongue was rendering fast, in which made her stomach begin to howl. she was in no luck at the moment, but she would continue to dance across the terrain in hopes of finding herself something - anything, to maim. the temptress cloaked in an ebony gown and platinum garments was bounding down the stretch that leveled out into a massive clearing of various decorations that toyed with the strings in her black heart. she settled a top a welded bolder that was perched on the high top of a slope that over looked the area, it was peaceful - maybe a little too much but it was peace that this fiend never got that often. and she was certain to enjoy it, however long it may last..

"Speech"