I Spit On Her Grave (M=mature R=vioence)

Turn back...
Shall not enter...
Death beholds you..

Mist swirled around her pale hooves, playing a sickly game of peek a boo by weaving slowly between each leg. The thick white fog moved lazily but stealthily across the ground in search of other things to obscure from the untrained eye. It traveled up her body like thin fingers searching for flesh, for fresh meat to guide and lead towards its doom. It moved over her like tentacles, tentacles of a hungry beast attempting to suck the life out of her.
The dead, gangly trees swayed and creaked like groaning monsters in the night. Their branches like out stretched arms reaching to snag her pearl white pelt as she passed, grip her silver mane with fingers and pull. A mighty toss of the head sets her free.Thick hidden roots escaping the ground threaten to trip her with ever step, make her fall. High steps keep her from stumbling over.
The moon high above, half hidden refused to give her a guiding light. The sulky clouds teased her as they surged forward to block the moon's milky gaze. Even the black trees seemed to grow around her and scratch the moon with sharp nails, making shadows of twisted designs on the ground.
Finally, the mare emerge from the horrific forest and out into the still foggy cemetery. All around her tomb stones with crumbling faces littered the damp ground. Most werent even fully erect anymore but rather half of rocks or chunks. None of these interested her. One in particular she was looking for. As she passed rows and rows of dead brethren, she searched with devilish blue eyes for the only erect stone. Before long, she found it. She stood before it, glaring at its glossy surface and frowning at how it mocked her. The intricate pattern of arabians dashing through the ocean decorated its surface. They mocked her with their sleek grace and divine beauty.
"I always hated you, mother." she hissed at the stone. She then spit. Her saliva landed on the name etched into the marble.
Christ's Admired. "He never loved you, you sick whore."
Angel hated her given name, Christ's Last Savior. She preferred Angel, though far from.
Walking away, Angel dodged a tree branch as the wind hissed...You WILL follow in my hoof prints..
"Die mother!" Angel growled. "Oh wait..ha! Your already dead." and she vanished back into the woods.



(looking for a male vampric horse, rude and nasty willing to try and catch Angel. Soon they become mates and have kids and all kinds of stuff happens!! haha MATURE)

(I'd love to reply to this. I have the perfect character. I hope you'll enjoy.)

(no problem!)