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they have begun to worship me - Patron Saint Of Warriors

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A black greatcoat billows like wings behind a slim figure briefly robed in clinging black, and gloved and stockinged in lace like the shadows of dead twigs on snow. Her oval face is serene and unreadable and her short black hair feathers out on the same impalpable wind that swirls her coat. A silver ankh lurks gleaming between her breasts, and in her left hand she wields a pair of scissors reversed like a dagger. The black of clinkered sin streaks her slender legs, and a shattered silver fetter trails from every delicate wrist. Smooth silver-violet metal shields mortal eyes from full sight of her face, revealing only eyes like stars, and a mouth of ruby and ivory.

In a grand cathedral of white Gothic arches and red stained glass, a slender figure in a black robe stands by the altar, sun-bright wings spread behind her and a sword of stars in her hand.

Unless... she plans on playing with her food....

In a graveyard lit only by the waning moon, a bespectacled young woman in a white peasant blouse and black broomstick skirt sits perched on a gravestone reading the graphic novel edition of the Necronomicon, apparently oblivious to the way her hair is reaching out in long snarly tendrils of blazing red to rend the life from a hapless investigator and his zombie.

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