Skull and Crossbones [Nephthys]
01-18-2018, 12:28 AM
(This post was last modified: 01-18-2018, 12:29 AM by Nephthys.)
M Rated Post - Gore
Haunt Me
Her tongue was drenched in the sweet sanguine wine of the rabbit which would lay upon her right side, the head removed and the organs sprawled across a tree’s roots. The pelt was placed nearest to herself, cut in half, as the feet would dangle off the tree’s life support—the tree would drank the fluids that were still left within the carcass. The stomach and the intestines would line themselves from the gravity of the base of the roots; trail along as if it were a thick and pink snake. Acid would drip from the ripped hole in the stomach and burn into the bark of the roots. Lungs would be next, a few inches from the top of the stomach. Each lobe would be placed upon a root, methodically as if it were supposed to be that way even in ancient times. It stood for the air in which the tree needed to breathe to stay alive. The heart was above the lungs. It rested in the nook that would start the great tree’s ascent into the clouds above, the leaves that touched the clouds and scratched their itches. Brain matter would be shattered across the trunk of the tree—splayed and sprayed as the babe had whipped the head at the tree, but not in anger. A sigh would come from parted breathes, from parted lips and her jaws would slacken. Unusual, luxurious tail would twist behind her as she would rise herself to all four paws, her crown would align itself with the air above her and she would release a bittersweet howl before speaking clearly. Concoquere famem nostram. Nam spiritus nostrae vacuis spargit pulmone. Cordis pro nobis animam immortalem. Ingenium nobis sapientia. (Stomach for our hunger. Lungs for our aching breath. Heart for our immortal soul. Brains for our widsom.) the prayer was sacred, the display was a common tradition of her egyptian heritage, of her homeland, Egypt. It was pronounced and depicted clearly in heavy accents, her tongue would pause for a moment, her ears erect at the sound of intrusion yet her golden pomegranate gaze would never once leave the trunk. She still needed to carve the sacred symbols with the crimson liquid of the rabbit and complete the religious ceremony. Greetings, intruder. dulcet sonates came forth, adressed to the stranger.
Haunt Me
Her tongue was drenched in the sweet sanguine wine of the rabbit which would lay upon her right side, the head removed and the organs sprawled across a tree’s roots. The pelt was placed nearest to herself, cut in half, as the feet would dangle off the tree’s life support—the tree would drank the fluids that were still left within the carcass. The stomach and the intestines would line themselves from the gravity of the base of the roots; trail along as if it were a thick and pink snake. Acid would drip from the ripped hole in the stomach and burn into the bark of the roots. Lungs would be next, a few inches from the top of the stomach. Each lobe would be placed upon a root, methodically as if it were supposed to be that way even in ancient times. It stood for the air in which the tree needed to breathe to stay alive. The heart was above the lungs. It rested in the nook that would start the great tree’s ascent into the clouds above, the leaves that touched the clouds and scratched their itches. Brain matter would be shattered across the trunk of the tree—splayed and sprayed as the babe had whipped the head at the tree, but not in anger. A sigh would come from parted breathes, from parted lips and her jaws would slacken. Unusual, luxurious tail would twist behind her as she would rise herself to all four paws, her crown would align itself with the air above her and she would release a bittersweet howl before speaking clearly. Concoquere famem nostram. Nam spiritus nostrae vacuis spargit pulmone. Cordis pro nobis animam immortalem. Ingenium nobis sapientia. (Stomach for our hunger. Lungs for our aching breath. Heart for our immortal soul. Brains for our widsom.) the prayer was sacred, the display was a common tradition of her egyptian heritage, of her homeland, Egypt. It was pronounced and depicted clearly in heavy accents, her tongue would pause for a moment, her ears erect at the sound of intrusion yet her golden pomegranate gaze would never once leave the trunk. She still needed to carve the sacred symbols with the crimson liquid of the rabbit and complete the religious ceremony. Greetings, intruder. dulcet sonates came forth, adressed to the stranger.
| Art by Vethysnia |
