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13 April 2007 @ 08:47 pm
The Ritual.  
The sounds of machines. Humming.
    Gears, grinding, straining.... to come to life.
       Slouching towards inevitability.
To be born again.
In the mirror is a face he used to know. Only now, it reminds him of nothing but the pain he'd endured.
To look beyond himself, he breaks the mirror. He feels the last of himself break away.
    He's been waiting for this. Now he can begin.
Attachment; this sin of the living. He plans to go beyond this. To shed his skin.
To begin again.
       The ego, this must go.
    To remove the ego, he takes a piece of the mirror.
Pain exquisite. A warm gush down his face.
    He reflects upon this. Thanks himself for allowing him a taste of reality.
He collects some blood into a small bowl.
             He removes his clothes, makes the markings he's known from his dreams on his body.
Out into the wilderness... a return to nature, he thinks.
    It is prepared, the circle, his sacred geometry. The candles. The things he needs to make his will be done.
He takes his place. Lights the candles. Begins the second part.
    His words, his power, flow through the night.
The world outside of the circle breaks away, he has invited destruction. He is happy for this.


      

It is done, the mask reforms around the broken mans face.