The hammer falls, and the stake enters the soft flesh. Blood is flying from the wound. Again, the hammer, the stake drives deeper still, and the blood rushes out. I strike a third blow, and this time I feel the stake hit something solid beneath the corpse.
Opening my eyes, I gaze upon the bloody mess I’ve made. There is not much of a body left, just a black, oozing slime spreading from the broken matrix that had held the form of a man.
I am covered in the blood of his victims, bathed in their vengeance, baptized in wrath.
Tale Told 