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Post by moonlight on Jul 30, 2008 16:37:24 GMT -5
A dark, almost ebony silhouette moved through the eternal darkness that encased bloodshed shelf. The name 'bloodshed shelf' appealed to the mongrel femme for many reasons, all of which shouldn't be spoken of, especially by the two-legs, it would upset their already corrupted brain, a brain full of selfishness and greed, and the lust for power.
Coal pads cracked the dried blood that splattered the ground from many moons ago. Death and decay clung to the female, she inhaled the foul stench of slow, painful ends.
Spirits, it seemed, haunted this deathly outcrop. But the female feared neither dead nor living, she feared nothing and no-one except herself. She struck fear into her own heart, when her eyes blazed with blood lust, she she did not feel for the lives of others against the uncontrollable madness that was herself.
Her demonic orbs fell upon the waxing moon. She bared her teeth, malice and destruction flared in her heart. If she had her way their would be no moon or putrid stars to guide others through dark nights. She would dampen spirits and slaughter all who stood against her.
She would destroy the world, she would murder every single damned dog that walked upon the stinking planet!
But nothing would ever quench her thirst for blood, even if the world was plunged into darkness, the screams of strays and house-pets alike crying out as one by one...They were murdered at her paw.
Still it would not end. It would never end.
She was obsessed, demented and sinister.
She was like the Trigger of a gun, on slip of her paw would ct out the lights of a life.
She was Trigger.
And no-one messed with her.
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