Your Savior

[``messiah]

I. The Pericardium is a conical membranous sac in which the heart and the commencement of the great vessels are contained. It is placed behind the sternum and the cartilages of the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh ribs of the left side, in the interval between the pleurae. Its apex is directed upward, and surrounds the great vessels about two inches above their origin from the base of the heart. Its base is attached to the central tendon and to the left part of the adjoining muscular structure of the Diaphragm. In from it is separated from the sternum by the remains of the thymus gland above and a little loose areolar tissue below, and is covered by the margins of the lungs, especially the left. Behind, it rests upon the bronchi, the esophagus, and the descending aorta. Laterally, it is covered by the pleurae, and is in relation to the inner surface of the lungs; the phrenic nerve with its accompanying vessels descends between the pericardium and pleura on either side.

Mist clouded around the Kaiser’s flints as he stood still upon the quagmire, shifting his weight confidently as the sounds of the forest swarmed all around him. The dead oxygen drifting in the atmosphere seemed to be asphyxiating him as his silence continued to dwell inside of his spacious cavern. Looking around this place, it seemed to be somewhat of a sanctuary to those of dark nature. The outlines of passing elk and deer were visible just beyond the clouded vision of frondescence, their pace neutral as if to encourage an attack. Hiss façade remained placid at these thoughts, for he had consumed a stag not two hours former and had no desire to hunt again for the time being. Instead, he shuffled along at an amusing rate, labrales picking at the perforation in his leg, which still spouted blood from his afternoon kill. He was a charming brute, to be sure, but a fucked up one at that. Tendrils whisked across his visage as a strong gust grazed his muzzle. Pedates left crescent blemishes in the sponge-like loam, obviously offering easy access to a predator much larger than that of an equine. Who knew what lurked in these woods? Surely not he. Knout lashed out at his caudal as mosquitoes began to gorge upon his claret. The light was growing dim and insects had come out, clouding his vision as he blinked out numerous offenders. Lowering his serpentine to duck under a string of Spanish Moss, he quickened his pace to a casual trot. Muscles ached where the stag’s last effort was clearly visible, seeping tones of crimson trailing down his leg like a line of ants. The blood flow had slowed, fortunately, and the liquid seemed to be crusting. He shook his garment thoroughly to rid it of all dust and matter of the forest, and although it clung feverishly to his ribcage, muscle growth had quickly developed. Lungs shuddered as he inhaled the fresh zephyr, cool with the midnight air. Hocks, recently splattered with the drying blood, were pulled and dropped at an alarming rate as he turned his course slightly, withers brushed by leaves finally stretched out into the open, carried by ligaments that seemed to be moving by themselves. Suddenly he was in a clearing, though it would have been near impossible to tell at first. The creaking of tree roots made his uneasy as his movements slowed to vast sweeps, nape outstretched. Here he waited, flesh crawling as the sun dipped below the horizon and Lady Lunar came out to play. With the snow creating dazzling patterns upon his spinal column, Messiah stalked forward with each step. Above him, a whirling cascade of precipitation vexed his inattentive pools. He snarled suddenly, whipcord disbanding the nearby flakes as his shoulder blades hunched forward. He crouched closer to the frozen quagmire now, plush almost touching the icicle blades of grass, hidden by the ice that smothered them. His raven canvas flexed suddenly as he changed directions, thoughts frenzied by the passing winter months. Another snarl ripped forth from his gullet, darting towards a decaying elm in the far corner of the lands. The snarl turned to a low growl, cerebrum angrily tossing to sweep his moldy dreadlocks into his visage.

II. The pericardium is a fibro-serous membrane, and consists, therefore, of two layers, and external fibrous and an internal serous. The fibrous layer is a strong, dense membrane. Above, it surrounds the great vessels arising from the base of the heart, on which it is continued in the form of tubular prolongations which are gradually lost upon their external coat, the strongest being that which encloses the aorta. The pericardium may be traced over these vessels, to become continuous with the deep layer of the cervical fascia. In front of the pericardium is connected to the posterior surface of the sternum by two fibrous bands, the superior and inferior sterno-pericardiac ligaments, the upper passing to the manubrium, and the lower to the ensiform cartilage. On each side of the ascending aorta it sends upward a diverticulum: the one on the left side, somewhat conical shape, passes upward and outward, between the arch of the aorta and the pulmonary artery, as far as the ductus arteriosus, where it terminates in a caecal extremity, which is attached by loose connective tissue to the obliterated duct. The one on the right side passes upward and to the right, between the ascending aorta and vena cava superior, and also terminates in a caecal extremity. Below, the fibrous layer is attached to the central tendon of the diaphragm, and on the left side to its muscular fibers.

Silkscreen pools watched over the scene as if through a hazy fog, however attentive he felt. Branches, black and twisted with death, seems to grapple at the cool gray sky, catching snowflakes and creating muffs upon their rigid corpse. A few ravens glided across the celestial, seemingly sliding over the air. A gust of wind shattered against the vagabond’s bulky frame. Diadem was perched loftily upon his nape as the vagabond’s peds swept through the undergrowth, the thick plates anything but cumbersome as the seemingly heavy steps echoed through the meadows. Gammes leapt forward as he exerted his mass away from the frondescence, finally fully in view. His marbled tapestry flexed in the early morning sun, shivering uncomfortably. He was not accustomed to being out so early; In fact, Wish Prison couldn’t remember the last time he had journeyed from his home in the morn. Twin towers bounded forward as sound waves hit, nape craning as he looked to the sky. The cold of winter barely past, the weather pleasant, and although the day was young, few beasts walked the topography. He heard a few small snaps in the frondescence, but he was in no mood for a hunt. He muttered, shaking his brainpan as he once again let fervent steps guide his way. Whipcord sprang to life as winter insects goaded his form, attempting to burrow their miniscule bodies inside his pelt. The strands raked through his carpet, ridding the vagabond of the diseases he was sure the tiny vamps were carrying. Looking around more attentively, the stallion grunted lowly. Movements bounded forward, carrying his weightless kista as if he were swept up by the zephyr. He felt so alive today, and yet so goddamned dead. The feeling of unease settled deep within his depths once again. His hackles rose, bristling up like a canine in a rumble. A snarl ripped through his vocal chords, causing each one to vibrate uncontrollably as he felt each ting explode against his inner pharynx. Audits collapsed upon themselves, falling upon his diadem with such force it seemed to be electronic. He stared blankly for a moment at his surroundings, eyes swallowing the vast lake he seemed to have come upon. Despite the persistent rain, the water seemed to glisten in the limited sunlight.

III. The vessels receiving fibrous prolongations from this membrane are the aorta, the superior vena cava, the right and left pulmonary arteries, and the four pulmonary veins. As the inferior vena cava enters the pericardium through the central tendon of the diaphragm, it receives no covering from the fibrous layer. The serous layer invests the heart, and is then reflected on the inner surface of the pericardium. It consists, therefore, of a visceral and parietal portion. The former invests the surface of the heart, and the commencement of the great vessels, to the extent of an inch and a half from their origin; from these it is reflected upon the inner surface of the fibrous layer, lining, below, the upper surface of the central tendon of the diaphragm. The serous membrane encloses the aorta and pulmonary artery in a single tube, so that a passage, termed the transverse sinus of the pericardium, exists between these vessels in front and the auricles behind.

Vernunft was tossed psychotically, labrums parted as a shriek excavated from his air sacks. The capon flexed his pharynx, lamthingys widened hastily. The enamels which had become part of his private armor glinted in the sunlight, giving off an eerie glow even in daytime. Titaniums struck the loam, sending feculence to his flesh. His chest expanded as another howl was given; calling forth the fiends of darkness who wished defy the offending party. Tendrils licked at the self-inflicted wounds upon his nightshade crest, sending shivers of pain through his nerves. Gammes halted for a split second as he reviewed the surrounding atmosphere. Unimpressed, he pressed on. His breathing was hard and sweat beaded down his side, dripping over the curves like water on oil. His mind was brimming with thoughts of the previous day, all of which amused him slightly. Abhorrence caused a tremor within his cerebrum, the splitting headache soon resolved in a matter of seconds. Capillament goaded his flanks as he continued to travel through the Hell, and the platform on which his cerebellum was perched lowered substantially towards the dirt. Whipcord slapped at his flanks suddenly, though nothing bore its teeth into him. His weight was thrown upon his hind-peds, leaning back casually as he smiled soothingly. What a nice new greeting. The tintinnabulation of his vocals echoed through the still darkness, his baritones forming a chorus of bells, each syllable clearly cut. The two words alone seemed to enchant the atmosphere as all living things stilled in the wake of his song. His smile faltered, finally descending to a frown. He tilted his pate downward slightly, chin not quite touching his nape. His irises expanded now, swallowing his pupils up greedily as the vast copper ring grew more noticeable. The black holes were pinpricks, barely visible in the night. The blood that had gathered between the glimmering pools had swollen up. Now it poured from the gaps, leaving a path of fresh claret upon his cerebrum. He stepped forward a half foot, blinking out what little blood had clouded upon the surface of his eyeballs. His ribcage heaved with the burden of his lungs. The delicacy of his manner was astounding, such a wonderful relief compared to his outward appearance. Rain fell softly to the feculence now, creating the aura of tranquility. Gammes moved faithfully as he listened, silently, as if obediently waiting for truth. Whipcord fell spiritless to his side, no longer attempting to ward mosquitoes from his burning flesh. The vaga's scorched empire trembled softly as he moved, the ghost of a grim smile hiding behind unsullied Labrales. Parched gullet contracted, feeling a stiffening in his heart. A trail of crimson slid down the vagabond's jaw line, tracing the outline and giving him the illusion of macabre horror. The transparent hairs upon his maw bristled as the chromosomes met their path, detecting the fine stench of salt somewhere near. Mercy pleaded with his nerves to take a rest, swallow his pride and sink upon the earth, but he did no such thing. The heathen's breath shallowed, low thin whisps of air recycled to the atmosphere. Within the salmon walls of a spacious dental-cavern hypodermic needles shuddered. The thin film which covered thoughtless visionaries enveloped the rotaries, their transparent lids revealing irises of pure ruby transfused with fool's gold. Hocks took the bloody task of serving as a barrier as his goad set to motion, bringing forth insectile vampires to feast upon his butchered corpse. Lungs collapsed into airless pits as he breathed smoothly, steadily. The delicate, muted sounds of rain meeting earth unnerved Messiahon, making him paranoid as his carcass slunk further into the foliage. He shuffled slightly, labrales lipping at the stagnant air. The trees creaked satisfyingly, settling into their roots as the night grew older. Mist rose up around him, as if summoned from the sod by the beast himself. He looked either way as its unrestricted form broke around his bodice, cradling him in a steam bath of fog. Blood rolled from his eye sockets, and he could feel the slight, barely noticeable sensation of its weightless mass lolling down his visage. A string of drops of water persistently barraged his crania from above, but he did not look up. His time in Apenbaring was short, and yet he seemed to know all that surrounded him. Even the way the shadows seemed to fall haphazardly across his corpse, the way the zephyr spoke to him, it was all something expected. Footfalls echoed through the terrain, finding solace only as the waves shattered against the frondescence. The stallion lowered his cranium, eyes lifeless. His body continued to carry him to some unknown land, peds betraying the will of his mind. His breath led an army of clouds about his cerebrum, obfuscating his sight. And still he continued. The image of the moon, illuminated in deep night, reflected off his visionaries as he waited. Pate was lowered slightly, a long and delicate anachronism to his muscle-clad bodice. The growl within his pharynx trailed off into the persistent gale, which tugged ever so longingly at his garment. The thing itself seemed much to large for his slender corpse, hanging off of his curved midsection. Lady Lunar winked in and out of sight as clouds of argentine mist raced past, aided by the wind. The mirthful chirping of birds called down to his, as if they didn’t know him for what he was. Somewhere distant, Messiah could hear the deep, unwelcoming rumble of a waterfall. It’s low moan comforted him slightly as he stood, an immovable mass, at the mouth of a land unknown.

WC (w/o excerpts): 1846
WC (w/ excerpts): 2404