faerimagic

Once upon a time, a baker baked the most marvelous cake. Droplets of honey and chocolate sprinkled across its seven tiers. Delectable fruit cut into various flower arrangements decorated its surface. But the outside was incomparable to the inside: Soft, but not too soft; sweet, but not too sweet; a mild hint of citrus and mint here and there while finely crushed peanuts lined one of the inner layers. In fact, the baker thought to himself, this may be his magnum opus. He placed the cake in the display window, and hoped that some young lord would purchase the extravagant cake.
It was not long before the cake caught the eye of a young boy. Who this young boy was, no one knew for certain. But this boy wanted that cake. He had not the money to purchase the cake at that time (for the cake was very highly priced), but he could not bear the fact that this cake might be stolen away by the time he returned. He wanted that cake. He needed it.
This desire overrode the boy's normally rational mind.

The chalk scratches on the ground
As I carve the line into place.
All is quiet, not a sound,
In the stillness I must haste.
A drop of red, a pool of blood,
Onto scrawls they will flow.
Such a thing, I'd normally never do,
But, I had naught a place to go.
And now,
And so,
A quiver. A shake.
The room shivers and then quakes.
A sound hisses, then it rakes.
Ripples form in the red lake.
A billow. A snatch.
The runes swirl and begin to hatch.
Its form cracks,
The joint snaps,
The floors burn,
The walls collapse,
The runes turn,
The blood laughs,
Its claws curl,
And then at last,
It stops.
"Finally."