Seal of Lucifer

     Channels of her psyche entertained decayed images before tuning in contemplation she on no account considered before. It was more of reminiscence, but could not have been hers, could it?

      As it arched round her ankles, miasma billowed.   From its opaque depths stirred a solitary body whose malformed bulk lurched to and fro. Though in the recess of her mind rejoinders swirled, her stomach threatened to empty into her mouth.  As her eyes slid over its burnished exterior her heart collapsed and nearly ceased.   Healthy tissue replaced rutted and abrasive structures that leaked various substances.

     Cold, she thought. Where is it coming from?

     Her eyes opened.  Blurry obscurity enveloped her.  Through its rippling waves she observed exploding azure threads.  Silence rang in her ears.  It was midnight born silence that weaved throughout her brain as another icy billow raked over her face.

     Her brows knitted.  It had not been a dream after all.

     From gloom hooded faces emerged.  They surrounded the contrivance she lay fixed upon.  Her survey rolled left then right to confirm her wrists were bound by broad leather straps.  Their golden buckles shimmered under fiery rotating disks orbiting overhead.  From their lips streamed resonating incantations.  Mere glimpses provided her with swollen, cracked meat that moved illogically.  Fleshy curls twisted upright then sideways to expose stained flashes residing within.  They were a poor excuse for teeth but as she writhed against her restraints she perceived greater slips of imagery as they shifted counterclockwise, moved liked hands on a timepiece around her.

      Moisture sprinkled across her forehead.  It carried a rich copper fragrance that tickled her nostrils.  She spied a crimson bead course down her cheek.  It turned and fell beyond her chin.  A cluster of its friends joined to form a pool.

      Blood, she realized.  

      A gleaming instrument rose over her chest, its curved handle cradled between two hands as shades of dancing flame ricocheted off its jagged metal blade.  From where said fire burned thrust her into spirally enigma but one not as astounding as the wielder of its power, for now as the circle tightened and ceased she saw fragments of blackened eyes from under horn spiked hoods.

      Goats, she thought as her heart pounded against her ribs.  Their horns were goat horns.  As their arms raised their bulky attire slipped down to disclose coagulated lengths of skinless meat; their hands warped hooks with elaborate fingernails.      

      Her vision soon fleeted.  Plunged downward with excessive force, the steel penetrated tissue and bone, pierced the very substance of her being as it convulsed against its assailant before expiring along with her consciousness.