• upon a stone, she sat on her throne waiting for the next victim to arrive a creature walked in, with blade, and thickened skin ready to dual off in a battle to survive the bars were set, they placed their bets, she lept off her stone with full intent though her heart was cold, a perpetual mould, she couldn't kill without feeling lament virtue would bleed, upon her steed and roll back the days once more the blade pushed through, the unfortunate shrewd made way to a patch of gore she would live through the joy of the pain, and the blood in the rain but overall the feeling of power as a princess for the fall, she wanted it all, nothing less than to devour her subjects.

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