he is coming to your little town ' OPEN

[i am asylum]

Darkness can only be measured by those who linger inside of it. Evil is a product of what surrounds it, things cannot fall into the grasp of the world beyond on their own. For, their minds are too weak and too fragile to manage to pull out of the aggressive reach. Sharp claws slit the helpless lives of creatures both large and petite that attempted their escape from hell. When such a fool mixes weakness and a loathe for the light, a demon is produced from the ashes of one who has fallen. Why do we long to feel blood beneath our bodies? When the crimson river flows from your wounds, it never ceases for anyone. Not even the devil himself. For he, cannot stop bleeding and nor can the darkest of creatures. What if, you are not like the others? Your eyes, bare no expression and inside you cannot feel the effects of emotion. You act, not seeing the affects of your behavior of others around you. Being a social equine, is not what you long for. In those cases, you are on your own to fight for yourself. He has signed a deal with the devil. The devil gave this equine his eyes, and in return he signed a debt in which many souls must be killed on the night of All Hallows Eve. He was born on the darkest of the nights in the year, Halloween. At the tick of midnight his wet, and delicate body had hit the ground. It was at that moment, his fate had been sorted out by the demons that would soon invade. He started his life has a clean, and innocent colt with not a desire to harm in his mind. His mother licked his wounds clean and brushed his dirty forelock from his face when they galloped across the wet marshes. She looked after him, and his elder sister who had reached the point of mare hood. For she had a lighter build than he, a lighter coat and far smaller wings. As he looked into your eyes, they seemed to become more lit with anger and hate with each passing moment. For she loathed her brother. To the point of doing away with him, even. It was at this early stage, when his mental health declined. Their sire and dam had no desire to care for their children, they only wanted to escape their grasp around their necks and throat. They pleaded, for Halloween to stop acting the way he did. Oh, I can't help it! Can you help it? They're here! They won't leave me! But they did not offer up an ear to listen. Instead, they frowned and threw up their fierce skulls and ran off with the brilliant sunset. His sister tortured him, and in too many mental and physical forms to name. Her payback would come, Halloween would toss the first body into the ground. The devil, would not ignore the deal he had made. When Halloween slaughtered his sister, all he could see was the ground beneath her body. The grass, stained with some red liquid that had a careful shine to it. This, was only the start.

His eyes, so blank and black. These, are the eyes of a psychopath.

HE IS COMING, TO YOUR LITTLE TOWN.

[^Anna^]

Slowly, the nigrescent minx made her way into the depths of the lands, the hateful light of Luna trailing her wherever she went. She really hated that, what was so pretty about silvery light anyways? The moon was much better blood red, a hunters moon, a moon for creatures like her.

Dinner plate sized hooves skimmed the earth, befeathered limbs seeming to dance beneath her massive body. She was quite graceful for such a big girl, even if she wasn't much to look at for the moment. If only she'd find some water and wash off a little of the dirt and dried blood. Poor girl, she's a little mentally unstable and quite a bit scarred up.

Crania was refined yet massive, her Percheron blood giving her size and strengh, the Friesian in her giving her grace and beauty. Her mind though, that was quite a different story. Violent and a little crazed, that summed up Alptraum almost perfectly, though the a little crazed some might change to just completely insane. She couldn't help it if her slaying of her own mother had drove her batty, it just had. The old bitch had to die anyway, she couldn't rule forever.

Oh blast! Have I been rambling again? Ah, who really cares, it's all in my head, right? This place is strange, buildings (I think that's what their called), and streets overgrown by grass and weeds. At least it's not completely crammed with others, though I can smell them and their do seem to be quite a few.

Gargantuan harlot makes her way deeper into the maze of fields and meadows, cochlea hidden beneath the tangled knot of her mane. In minute incretements they rise from their almost habitual placing of being slicked back against her skull and as they emerge from beneath her messy locks, it seems that a portion of one is missing. A token of affection from mommy dearest during their battle. The other ran almost the entire length of her left wither, the old bat's teeth really were like razors, she hadn't been kidding about that. Good thing her daughter hadn't inherited her lust for bloodshed, oh no, Alptraum's was much worse. Give her a challenge to fight and be ready for a most willing opponent.

Drawing up short as she neared the inner sanctum of her newest "hell", the black mare was quiet for a few moments. Her mind was working, though not like yours to be sure. After a few more seconds of silent reflection, the beastess parted her lips to reveal stained dentals as she loosed a shriek upon the night air. Gravity was defied almost utterly as without effort, the big witch rose upon her hindlegs and beat a tattoo upon the night air with her fores, shrieking once more. Returning to earth with a heavy thud, the pitch mistress awaited a reply. And that's when she saw him, a devil of onyx with wings sprouting from his sides. Hmm interesting, let's go get a better look, shall we?

With barely a whisper of movement the large mare was again in motion, her limbs skimming the grass as if she too had wings. Draft heritage had given her size and strength, bad parenting had given her a horrible attitude. She'd rather kill you than look at you most times. And if you'd stand still long enough, you were mostly likely going to either get one hell of a beating or your life would end. Simple violence was always her way, though the sadomasochistic tendencies ran wild in her blood. It only excited her if you hurt her, so what good would that do? She stopped within the loving confines of the penumbra as she gazed at the nigrescent beast, her eyes devoid of any life whatsoever. Perhaps this would be the one to block out memories of MORGENSTERN, perhaps finally she'd be free of that torment. Or perhaps he'd just be an amusing playtoy..either way, she had to make his acquaintance.

[zo dearest !]

t w i s t e d transistor

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[i am asylum]

-pokes-