Jane Doe

She lies on my table, naked as the day she was born, her finger nails tell tails of dirt, flesh and blood, her eyes stare back at me, grey as a morbid sky,     
    
A pentagram carved into her chest, Roman numerals carved down both arms, symbols of witchcraft across her forehead, nothing but bite marks on her legs, her wrists and ankles have been broken from being bound tightly, flesh has been clawed away from her face, I can still see the fear in her final expression.     
    
She has been violated with tools in a way only a creature of the dammed could enjoy, sacrificed for a dream of resurrection, a nightmare of the broken world, I fear for the new wave of darkness on earth,     
    
Her presence in my morgue breathes life into the souls that have past through, sounds of lost souls in purgatory echo through my halls the dead start to wonder and feed me lies or truths i wish were only lies, visions of a red mist engulfing the earth, demons crawling through the streets, people worshiping the blood and sacrifes, she is the gateway, her eyes will be the future of our morbid grey sky.