The dead are buried here, we walk upon their crushed bones, they make the dirt upon which your little paws now hoppity hop upon. The rabbit cares little for her conversation, they are deep beneath the field, deep deep down in the tunnels. Not all things here are dead, little bunnykins muses, not all things down here have crushed into the earth, no no no.
A big old gate of the blackest iron stands before them, a thick heavy chain with a big old fashioned lock hung through the bars. The rabbit hops in a circle around her feet as she raises her hands into the air and raises her voice. She calls the one she knows will come, the Watcher who is always and ever looking over her, the one she never stopped giving to. She called the one who was borne on the cries of the dead, the one whose name is ancient and old and whispered on tongues in prayer throughout the eons, the one whose name she now cries out. Confident she has his attention, she releases the woven words from her heart…
Seeker of life behind the shadow, keeper of secrets that never reach tomorrow, teacher of magic, guardian of death, here our words and not find sorrow, find the power within us to grant us our quest, open the gates to the secret of the darkness of the abyss of the web of the moonlit crypt, search our soul and tear out our heart, find our motives and lay them bare, unravel our mind of mayhem and kaos, see behind the mask the truth that lies within, sacrifice to the great dark dog the meat from the bone, seek the lies, breech the cage, unlock the key, wind the lock, tick tock our beautiful beast, daemon in the loch, take us back to where it began, take us back to the island of rock, take us to the places we seen, with new eyes show us the gates that we never seen, oh come now you beautiful fiend, unlock the gates and walk with us to places we have never been, blood curdled, death as a shawl, the skull is our mask, let the light fall upon the burnt ground, let the darkness rise like ashes upon the wind, unlock this gate, welcome us within.
A growl fills he darkness beyond the gate,
A leaping black dog flies through the grate
For a moment she thinks it is too late
Giant jaws grasp her and lead her to her fate.
It’s dark in here, she whispers to the bunny. Not a light to be seen, the bunny whispers back to her. Just the way we like it, she whispers back to her bunnykins.
Strange noises in the wastelands around them, darker shapes and shadows can be seen against the blackness. She grasps the spearhead tightly in her hand, the sharp edges slightly cutting into her skin, lets go and play she says to the bunny as she scoops him up with her other hand, skipping off into the darkness, with nothing but blood and death upon their minds.