NEVERMORE

                    the resonating footfalls of her scarlet counterpart has been engraved into the folds of the deity’s psyche, triangular ears thus swiveling in the direction from whence fiamette approaches to acknowledge the empress’ looming presence. frigid gaze yet remains diligently fixated upon her son’s battered countenance even as her carmine beauty draws adjacent to the abominable display, an eerie and foreboding silence prevailing between the trio as the elysius permits scrutiny, permits judgment. she anticipates reprimanding from the beauty for her transgressions against her own progeny, anticipates melancholic sentiments and bitter proclamations of a declining mentality, yet receives nothing -- nothing but disconcerting and condemnatory q u i e t. the calm before the storm, so the elysius presumes.

the forepaw that had supported her son victim’s diminutive skull abruptly descends to his crippled chest cavity, where slight force is applied to nudge the abhorrent corpse off of the river’s edge and into its murky depths. red blossoms and infiltrates the crystalline blue hue of the river as the miniscule form of an underdeveloped babe plunges into its depths, creating a webbing of blood from its fragile epicenter -- grotesquely aesthetic in the eyes of a killer queen. pupils are unwavering from her handiwork as her son’s carcass hovers and drifts with the current, the apathetic guise of her countenance unyielding, stagnant. for he had been deserving of her wrath; he, the incarnation of her wretched father.