Delirium's Glade

In delirium's glade where madness reigns come see death

Delirium sits apart in it’s own little glade. Butterflies with multicolored wings flutter about Delirium looking for sweet nectar.

“B-butterfly,” Delirium reaches up and crushes one of the most beautiful butterflies in it’s clumsy grasp. Delirium begins to cry. “Dead, I killed it. I DID this.”

“That you did.” The devil stands just out of sight in the shadows of the dark woods.

Desperately Delirium searches for the demon. “But-But I DIDN’T MEAN TO!” It shrieks at nothing. “I didn’t mean to! It’s not my fault! Not my FAULT! This is you! YOu did this!” Delirium throws itself upon the ground thrashing violently, crushing the violets and wild flowers and more pretty butterflies.

The devil laughs, his voice echoing from the trees throughout Delirium’s glade. “Why should this burden be mine?”

Delirium cups it’s ears with it’s hands and rocks back and forth on it heels, whimpering like a wounded animal. “You did this,” It says whispering sharply. “This is your fault you made me do it. YoU MaDE, mE! We’re dirty, dirty. I’m dirty, I can’t get clean! CAn’t get cleeaaan! STOP! S S S SSSSTOP LAughing!” Delirium tear’s at it’s hair pulling it out in tuffs. Claws at its neck, digging its nails into its skin, ripping the flesh apart and leaving rivulets of blood. “I can’t . . . I CAN”T sstand , I Can’t stand! I have to get out! GET ME OUT!” Delirium tears at it self shredding it’s clothes in the process of crawling out of it’s skin. “MAke it end. Make them stop. This is UNFAIR. Unfair! It’s the devil! The Devil did it, not ME!”

Delirium runs wildly as though whatever haunts it is directly at it’s heels. Screaming Delirium flails its arms until runs headlong into a tree. But instead of falling, Delirium latches onto the tree with inhuman strength. Screaming in terror Delirium rips one of the limbs from the tree and goes on to bash pretty glade into smithereens

“OUt devil! OUT! Show your face and I shall condemn you back to hell! I shall break you. I will do what Michael should have done! And I will rip the remainder of your wings from your back.”

Once the branch Delirium had held is reduced to fibers, and the glade to mulch. Delirium, in it’s rage, takes the butterflies one by one and shreds their wings.

“Disgusting bug, smoosh. Smoosh. SMOOSH!” Delirium screams delighted. And in it’s hands Delirium crushes the butterfly bugs, coating it’s palms with butterfly gore.

And now Delirium is alone in the glade, and there is no music and no beauty, only destruction. And now Death is there, and Delirium cowers, covering its head crying.

“No, no please. I’m afraid.”

Death lays it’s hand on Deliriums shoulder.

“No, I’m Scared.” Delirium weeps, sobbing tears roll down it’s dirty cheeks.

Death says nothing, for Death is silent creature. Death allows Delirium to cry.