Diana-Mold

“Show me the ‘thing’ the defiled my sister,” he commands as she waves his hand over the water.

            The pool of water trembles at his voice, gradually bring up an image of the lowly thing sleeping.

            “You dared to touch Diana to love her you vile thing!” he shouts. “Diana is mine she has always been mine!”

            Taking a step onto the edge of the pool he stares down at the thing.

The Southern Mountain, Jotunheim

Diana’s body is molded into his arms as she leaves a trail of blood on the white snow behind them as she carries her.

            “Why didn’t you stay back Diana?” it whispers to itself.