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The young courtesan slowly strode over to the begotten well of fire; this curiously cursed portal, inevitably would be the end and start of a new life for this young girl, she none the wiser proceeded to wash her face in the acidic odour from Hell’s belly. From the distance she heard a call; first with pursed ears her attentions concentrated on the mysterious Caller; suddenly without warning the voice was upon her, screaming the screams of a thousand locusts. Frightened and full of contempt, she removed her ears with a powerful tug and discarded them into the well, never to hear again. Pained and in a stupor the girl began to cry; for she was alone with only a voice, her own, but an element of the Caller's power had been removed, necessitating its survival the Caller became a vision of the girls greatest fear, and without a moment of rationale the girl's tears became red with blood as she removed her eyes with two quick pecks from her finger tips, and dropped them into the well. Deaf and blind, the Caller's intentions were quickly realized by the young girl, so she thought. With its sensational barrage taking its toll on the girl, the Caller quickly pungated; attacking the girl with odorous advances so sickening that the girl’s stomach rejected all she had eaten and more, as she hurled her insides fatefully downward. The girl's skin began to ungulate and heat to the point of porous gapping. With diverging pours and grossly disproportioned flesh; the young courtesan’s mortal ambitions subsided to the curious darkness of the cursed well. The Caller in its instinctual demise simply ceased to exist. Nature's Will screaming for a new Caller; so arose the courtesan’s scattered remains to satisfy the maniacal state of nature's twisted cycle.
© Copyright 2006 Joshua Johnz (grayshadow at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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