I'm walking down the street and I see a used condom in my neighbor's yard. Upon taking the time to notify them of this, I was alarmed by a large trail of blood. Strangely enough, it was still wet and warm. My nerves tensed as I continued to follow this trail...
The trail lead me over a hill where I saw the dagger, with its hilt and handle embroidered with three dimensional skulls that seem to twirl up the base of the blade like some sort of overgrown vine. Within the engravings of the blade, I saw pools of sanguine, it too warm and wet. I knew this had to have done the deed... But while I was focused on the dagger, I failed to notice the liver not a foot away. It too was covered in blood, possibly originating from itself. The liver still pulsated as though a heart were still pumping away, but no blood was going into the liver - blood only came out.
And there I saw the pentagram with my peripheral vision. It was drawn out in the dirt, no more than a length-wise credit card deep. Inside the crevices of the pentagram, blood was filled to the rim. It too was wet and warm. But then, I started to lose control. I felt a deep heat arise from the inner depths of my bowels... it kept growing and growing. I recognized this feeling as none other than hate... the hate consumed me. Like a ravenous beast, I grabbed the bloody ceremonial dagger and held it upside down high above my head, grasping with both hands. And as in a fevered dream, the dagger dove into the liver. The blade sunk through and into the ground below it. Blood trickled down the blade onto the dirt, which soon spread into the pentagram that was dug out. The crevices overflowed and poured into the surrounding dirt, reaching my tattered knee. As I rose to my feet, my shins were already dripping with blood. I didn't care, lest the invocation invoke chaos...
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