A new Host

"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window."

She starts to tell the story as if it's nothing, a no show of a story that's about to sprinkle into dust.

Few could remember that she had recently gotten out of the psycho ward as both patient and doctor.

They had kept her in the nut house yet offered her any position therein she could possibly desire. As a matter of fact they invented countless of positions and offered them all to her from which she could constantly pick and choose.

She made “them” believe that she wasn't dangerous, that she could be reasoned with, oh she could play their games, to the fucking rawest of her sexual and intellectually sophisticated prowess. She gleamed golden lionesses from each of her hairs and her Orion belt contained entire galaxies from which she could constantly pick and choose. In this story she wanted to incarnate in a nut house. No one knew why. And no one objected.

She made “them” believe she was "there" just to observe, not to act. As the story goes by and she decides to get out of the nut house, as soon as she gets out, she barely snaps her fingers and everybody forgot she had just come out of the nut house.

O! She was bored, so bored. As masses of gaping eyes, open eyed sleepy eyed eyes, are fixated on her every move. She is bored. That’s when she starts telling us a "scary" story:

"The cabin in the woods had been abandoned for years, but one night, a candle burned in the window. It had a new host. Appeared out of nowhere and starts terrorising the surroundings with sounds that shrivelled rocks and bones. Let alone men, men that were in a radius of psycho infinity proximity would lose their very bones to the sound. Men were powerless to act. Except for a few, Goddess had to keep at least a few men active for the purpose of balance.

But all the other ones, boneless, useless, mateless.

The Goddess is the Wolf Queen, there to digest and birth the Male into higher spheres of existence. Male gods had grown weak. They could no longer exercise their will. They've lost the authority to rule. So now some of the primal early Goddesses, early codes of the cosmos start to incarnate. She is one of them. They call her The Psycho-Bitch. Picture the Psycho-Bitch as a Psycho Flame shrouding a perfect sword. A sword that can make the slightest cut and wreak the most ravishing destruction. Picture this Blue Flame as the only power able to sooth this sword from its insatiable lust for blood. Now picture this blue flame as the power itself to Pacify the sword's power endlessly by keeping it clamped on its tits for all eternity.

The abandoned cabin in the woods has been hiding this sword as far as dust can remember. The men hid it there because they no longer cared about obeying their sword but, in what can only be described as an act of rebellion, started obeying their candlestick which was slowly burning itself out, and the closer to burnout the more the man is willing to sacrifice to experience the final drops of its ecstatic evaporation. And without their swords men could no longer fight nor fuck. So they built these great tools to magnify their handicap. And with these tools the power to dominate so they could continue to burn-out.

But when the Psycho-Bitch hath returned to the cabin in the woods that is holding your sword. You shrunk, except for a few whom Goddess deemed worthy, worthy to go serve the Potency-Witch.”

Thus she finished her story. And her audience were still gaping at her with open eyed sleepy eyed eyes. O so bored, Godess, so bored! She snaps her finger and makes us all…”Well come in to the nut house.”