Twisted Roads – Twisted Horror Stories by Matthew Tonks

Sickness was the soulless way he bed the maiden, withered in his ways, destined in his motions, I wanted to wait, but needed to watch, the drool dripped in streams, the sea waited to see, I opened the devils door, and gave him admittance, partly for temptation, but really for me, the sickness was the soulless way he bed the maiden, the soulless man was me…