Judith clung, to memory, to Michael. Cruel nostalgia, now replaced. His tortured form, a feeding chalice, his final fate. Their history, debased. Her treasured times, her trio reduced to one, leaves her broken, defaced. The creature reveled at this humbled, fractured thing, savoring the aftertaste. "You kneel in reverence, in fear...in respect" he murmured, voice filled with glee. "You understand, though words escape you—your mind, a withered barren sea." "I am no myth, no child’s terror. You have seen, and so you know." "You will speak. You will remember. You will make my gospel grow." His hand reached out, the doors groaned wide. A visceral crimson torrent poured forth outside. It bathed the streets, it soaked into the stone. A path emerged, for her alone. She did not move, she did not breathe. He leaned in close—his voice was need. She was a quivering animal, a frightened deer. "Preach, my child. Tell the world what you saw here." She quaked into the crimson flood. Her feet splashed down, in flowing blood She sobbed aloud, a broken husk. As she stumbled out into the dusk. The town now screamed, consumed by the ground, It's people painted, into spires anew, horror all around. She couldn't look, she dared not hear them, she could barely trudge. Her mind now tainted, her fear, now fuel, moved her through crimson sludge. Her fondest memories, of James and Michael, now replaced with nightmares, It had stolen a precious thing, her love, her life, consumed all that was theirs. She knew the truth, she felt it crawling, screaming loud behind her teeth. If one could do this… if just one… then how many sleep beneath? If there is one, (There is one) there must be more, (Must be more) how many cruel offspring? (How many more?) She must tell. (She must tell) She must speak. (She must speak) She must let the sermon ring!
