Apocalypso
“a curse is a curious thing.”
//apotheosis//
Once upon a lightless morning, an anubis rolls from slumber in a forest far from the land it calls home. Almost a thousand years of dreaming have allowed once fresh battle wounds to heal into scars. The beast stretches its muscles and pricks up his daggered ears. At full height the age-old predator would loom between three and four meters tall. Before sensing the present danger, a farmer’s scythe severs the god’s head from its ziggy. All this happened; all the names have been changed.
