I see the red, painting a picture of glory on a backdrop of victory.
There's nothing more beautiful than this scene depicted before me. The bodies dangle in such ways as to delight the mind... tease the senses, almost like a feather caressing my skin.
Do this for us, disciple, and you shall have the most glorious death - to be seated at the right hand of our goddess for all of eternity.
They told me what they thought I wanted to hear.
Glory, eternal life.
I wanted none of that.
I only wanted...
My blade slices their skin. My hands pummel their flesh.
Pale, bright, dark, pulsing, screaming, laughter.
Glory, pain, humiliation, death, love, hate.
I revel in it. It is mine.
I take from them, they give to me, I take it with pleasure and I revel in everything.
The red paints me now. It painted them and now it paints me. It captures me at the crowning moment, the glorious, and it is glorious though I never wanted it... the moment is here.
It passes. Too quick, it was gone. Yet I thought, think and yet will think again... it was worth it.
Every.
Single.
Moment.
