"Begin!" he snapped and I could hear the whip, slash his skin as though a butcher. The blood-splattered and spread.
Flying and tainting my face. The ground ran red like the bloody river and I knew today would be the day of the sabbath. They would baptize the sinners in rain and hope the sin would spill out like their blood.
It would turn the garden of eve into spoils. Into ruins. We were the weeds that needed to be brought out. We were the spoils.
The next whip hit harsher and I knew they were trying to kill him. I looked up and watched him as my ear sunk deeper into the mud. I watched him coil and bite his lip as the next whip fell unto him in a flash, removing every trace of perfection I had come to love.
They would never be a vaccine for this kind of pain and hate that I witnessed in his eyes. They were removing his skin like layers of a foundation, demolishing him and the closer they got to the structure. The closer I knew he got to death.
