Like a serpent who quietly slithers on the ground Quietly You strike without cause or reason Only to feed your need on your prey…me And then Unfelt Lives on Whilst I lay there bleeding Dying Wondering why you have forsaken me You who were my friend You who are that very serpent whose
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On the surface he seemed an average academic with a reputation for expressing his personal polemic. Insiders suspected he was following an impossible plan to steal the soul from the body of the average man. Professor Arcadian’s soul stripping machine must be something from out of a drug-fuelled dream. No one in serious science
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When Countess Dracula swoons
Her breasts both pop out like balloons
Screeching
Shrieking
Howling
Whipping
Wind tears at my flesh
Rocks tear at my fists
