Act I: Foxy Chalice

All rights reserved with author

B.Marchand

Known Alias:

Beatrix Macabre

WARNING: The following content is intended for mature audiences only. It contains explicit language, graphic descriptions, gore, and themes of a sexual and sensual nature, amongst other subjects that may render a reader speechless. Viewer discretion is advised.

THIS BOOK IS FOR ARTISTIC EXPRESSION.

—————————————————

Gaze a burning gift of a rainbow kaleidoscope reflecting a passage into the wavering pine of mesmerizing clouds and surreal meadows with candy mushroom tops and valleys of poured sugar.

Did this mean the blood was the seal of the damned or sweeter to drink with golden cups?

The fox stared deep in my eye and climbed a tree, not here I thought, and he giggles “what do you mean?”

I stammer my mind a mettle mess of mayhem, “Can you help me?”

Eyes glow predatory but his lips smirk sly, surely kindlingly and honest;

“Please, never look to places with keys for hidden secrets and chests, inside you’ll find pretty objects but not what you seek to unvest, knives are very much better such handling of tasks, start at the neck - work your way down your chest, use your flesh to catch the splattering mess.”

With that he was gone into the verdantly plush green leafs above, sly foxy fellowships, friendly.

Brandishing my double-edged blade, began my tale, shrieks permeate — a flock of birds bursting into the sunset, rolls the orb to gray and the sky nigh, best with a shot of gin, no ice, like it warm on the velveteen with a wink.

Ossuary of flesh shimmering under the leering moon, such an elegant hue muscle a sinew in the shimmering pool of what I once was. Now a skeleton bear to roam as a zombies queen of matter and bone where larva bore holes for homes and worms sew tendon and skull together.

Bonfire in the distance, mounds of vitae enacting the ritual of debauchery from unseen eyes, but mine of course — as I drink in their essence of life, they didn’t go quietly as I picked them from my teeth - one bye - one by - canine to tongue and lather a few final words for the feasts fete.

Blue-eyed topaz sparrow looked to me for aid and encouragement — I could not bare such malice, kept her in a cage above the fire place, heat a simmer but not enough to ruffle feathers, just *poof* them to smoke.

“Why are you doing this?”such a sad tone and my reply didn’t help her soul.

“because the fox said so.”

Drops of water on the umbra of my agony,

quintessrentialesquerie of thy esoteric despair—

Sunbeam in the meadowlands as thunder recedes,

florals floundering amongst the trees — tis das dream,

must be for I am not adorned such wondrous things?

Rapturous warmth in thy bosom beat fore ye —

beseech de skies — is this ilk mockery of es flesh,

pervasion natured jest bereft of such nestling of vie breast,

minds eye doorway that will blur — testing thy mettle?

Bullfrog jumps off a lily pad — frame starts to settle,

hatter riddle - tea pours from wonderland kettle,

“Welcome home, was your journey incredibly incredible?”

Silently I whisper, “Depend on what’s for dinner,”

snarl-like grin crosses my countenance — was a screamer.

Giggles pours a moist teacup of vermicelli tea with cucumber.

Best if drank with a raised pinky.

Beyond the threshold of the forgotten glade, where the waters defy gravity's cruel grasp, and the fungi reach for the whips zenith, the very fabric of my flesh is puzzle pieced.

The mist-shrouded trees stand like sentinels of the damned, the rabbits and squirrels indulge in a rapturous dance of abandon, their laughter and whispers entwining with the tryst of the petrified forest.

Gaze to see a flash of cash, a boudoir of intimacy, beckons forth symphonies of flesh smacking mesh, as the hidden oak doors creak shut, shrouding the revelry in an aura of secrecy.

The echoes of pleasuring, haunting melodies that tendril sweet nothings in the wind, swirl through the barren, pale-white verdant wasteland, a morbid waltz of the damned — skeleton and hand.

Stitches of debauched flesh coagulate — my frames metamorphosis of hellish countenance, who led me down this path of such delightful decadency?

Piercing cacophonies cacophonous cacophony of chaos, where the shriek ilks rabbits demise is abruptly silent, and the creaking hinges of the oak door issue an ominous invitation.

As the badger's paw, a titanic force, sweeps across the sodden earth, it settles upon the lifeless form, a once-pulsating heartbeat now silenced, like a tender hymn's final reprise. The badger's guttural voice assumes the cadence of a forbidden incantation, as it utters a wicked refrain:"Thus, ye pitiful hopscotch will learn to die, thrice dear cadavers, swiftly surrender your sheers, pay the fee with thy tattered pelt."

A tantalizing flick of their tail, a chitter, like the rustle of a secret shared 'mong shadows.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***