Enervate

[Deamon]

((Continued))

Outside the chapel was an omen, she knew the name that had once belonged to the cadaver, but it had no more use for names. It was laid delicately down in a flowerbed, face split open from forehead to jaw like the distorted grin of a shattered mouth drawn on by something that didn't know how faces worked. It blurred the features and reduced it to something less than.

She didn't know how long it had taken whoever had laid the carcass in among the flowers. The effort of moving it, interrupting its original rest, as great as it was didn't serve any greater purpose than to remove any feelings of guilt. Moving the empty shell to the flowerbed as if it made a difference but leaving the face uncovered, showing the world who used to reside inside what was now an empty vessel. One arm looped under another and the other under the second. Her knees bent as she gained a purchase and then taking the wait once it was up and able to be maneuvered. So that with one push the remains were flipped over and to the floor.

Face to the dirt. Hidden from the sky.

The flowers waved gently as a result of the movement around them, whatever opinions they possessed about the events unfolding around being kept to themselves.

Stepping over and past her work she moved closer to the door of the chapel. It was aged and exhausted, years of use followed by disuse weighing heavily upon it. It was the gateway to the promise of something, belief, hope, dreams, promise, ideas, knowledge, security, power, corruption, lies, fear, prejudice, hate, anger, pain, loathing, life, death, everything and nothing.

The door groaned as she pushed it open and crossed over.

((Continued))