LIKE THE SHADOWS

                              she is the enigmatic specter that lurks this forsaken crypt, the phantom queen who diligently haunts. and the faint pallor of a looming moon does enhance her eerie appearance, pallid flesh simply radiant as the deity prowls through the labyrinth of vegetation flourishing within her keep -- strides calculated, precise. abhorrent countenance retaining its tepid indifference despite the inferno blazing beneath her rigid exterior, minute traces of such fury visible within her spiteful gaze. for she is an indignant warden, and those who had mistakenly infiltrated her domain would duly receive the brunt of her festering wrath -- despite the hindrance which conspicuously plagues her, her abdomen noticeably distended with the promise of budding life. no matter -- she had been swarmed by the masses of a negligible and cowardly empire since conceiving; surely asserting her supremacy over subservient invaders would prove a simple task.

there is contempt laden within her mismatched gaze as she approaches the duo with attempted obscurity, saliva bleeding from blackened gums { with ravenous intent } as the urge for bloodshed grows prominent within her distorted psyche. yet as the deity registers vague familiarity with one of two daring intruders, velveteen lips tweak with sardonic mirth -- visage contorting quite criminally. for she had presumed that the brute had met with an early grave! yet the reality of the situation was much less appealing to the tyrant queen. “creedance voltaire, paying me a visit?” is the deceptive croon that flits past frayed lips as the deity emerges from the shadows of her realm, pupils unwavering from his rugged physique despite the lingering presence of another. “i should feel honored for being so dearly missed.”