Nothing involving the monster is ever easy.
Built thick, grey walls around you, a fortress.
Played with weapons to satisfy thirst for blood.
It slips between your fingers and you lick it off.
Your nails bleed, horrified you hold for dear life.
One second caring, the next, evil. How long?
The blood stained dress, ripped apart by him.
Spies you from the shadows, hunting his prey.
The blade sparkles, a mirror to the rage inside.
16 red roses...