The Garden

Their screams make me purr.

They hang upside down in the garden, they are begging me to stop, they wish to live though they have sinned. They expect mercy from the shadow of justice, in a cloak of night lined with light, i shall give them their justice.

I hold in my hands, a small silver blade and a snake. The green being is coiled around my porcelain wrist, staring at me adoringly. I swear i can hear it thanking me.

I stab the blade into the first stomach, perfect fangs glinting in the dark as i grin, gasping in glee as their blood steadily pours over my hand. I kiss the serpents head and place it against the slit, you see, snakes like warm damp places. The insides of a man are warm and damp are they not?

I watch in satisfaction as it joyfully slides through the slit, the cries of pain echo around me but i am too far gone. The pleasure, the blood, the screams. Oh the screams.

The cries of pain, the occasional crunch of bone and the gargling as the sacrifice chokes on his own blood. The crimson falls will nourish the roses, the pure white petals tainted with scarlet droplets, they will flourish as they feed on the sins. The innocence feeding off the guilty.

It will be an Eden, the scent of roses so crisp and pure will mask the stench of rotten flesh. My blooms will feed off of their sins, and in turn create a purity above all. I will be the shadow of justice.

I will lure them in, slowly at first, dressed in fine leather, beauty to touch. They couldn't resist to indulge their sins, to touch my porcelain skin, oh so innocent and oh so deceptive. I will lure them to their deaths, they will meet the darkness and awake in my Eden where they will feed my glorious blooms.

My garden will grow and thrive off of mans sins, justice shall be reaped and i will come to you when your time is up. I will come in a cloak of night, lined with light as a shadow of justice and your black heart shall be mine.

You will pay for your sins, the serpents shall cleanse you of your sins, they will devour that cold heart of yours and be exhaled through your lips. The scarlet rivers will flow down the garden and meet at the river, soon there will be pools of crimson and the scent of death in the air.

You will pay for your crimes, in my garden of Eden.