Black Roses

One morning they had begun to rise from the dark earth surrounding a fresh grave and slowly choke every other living thing in the vicinity, smothering daffodils and bluebells with their thick, thorny branches.  Their inky sap fell to the ground slaughtering insects.

As people came to visit their beloved departed they may accidently, unknowingly brush past one of the black roses and within hours fall in to a deep coma.

And around the grave of the late Hamar they thrived and multiplied.  The one they had called a witch.  The one they had driven to take her own life……