The Occult Madonna

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Looking back at him, framed in a peaked hood, just visible in the gloom, was a hideous skull-face, its blackened, cracked flesh stretched tight over the bone. Teeth — fangs! - huge and hooked, curled out of its mouth and a wet, dripping tongue darted over them. Twin eyes, pupilless, like molten pools of swirling red and yellow fire, glared at him. The Thing's terrible lips spread into a smile and a hiss poured from its black mouth. The Thing rose slowly on the bed. It sat upright, its body enfolded in a ragged, ebony black cloak. The Thing's lower body shifted and its enfolded legs swung off the bed. Its swirling, glistening orbs shone in the darkening room like the fanned embers of a rekindling fire. They glared. He was gasping, sobbing, his throat constricted by terror. Tears streamed down his cheeks. The Thing sat on the edge of the bed, extending its rag shrouded arm, a bony black skeletal finger beckoning to him to come to it... ...come to Her. He took an unwilling step forward, feeling as if his body was no longer his own to command. His mind was clouded, entrapped by a force he could not comprehend...