Round these parts they still burn witches.

We are children of Nero

You can’t tig your butcher

Like a screw
That turns into the flesh
It’s righty tightly
And loosely left

Forever Halloween

Beware the beast, his speed and his claws but most
of all beware his dripping honey jaws.

Those that say they aren’t scared of the dark, they’ve never been truly trapped in it.

I am a diseased god

If my Gran taught me anything it’s that earthquakes are just god farts

Even Angels Fall, That Does Not Make Them Human