"You hear their blood. From a hundred miles away, you hear it. Like music. Pulsating through veins like a bass drum, swilling like notes because its sounds echo in your own veins. Shared heart. Shared blood. And it’s calling out to you. The melody of his blood is infinite. Like a painted clown’s eyes. And he is screaming, but you cannot hear his screams over the lyrical blood as you start stabbing and new sounds fill your ears. Hands driving downward. Slicing, splashing sounds, spraying sounds, blood has so many wonderful songs…"

— Geoffrey Girard’s Project Cain (via naomi-notnina)
6 years ago with ♥ 6 — via
# ( musings ) # ( thoughts )
HW