Bowls of aromatic spices scented the balmy air around the patio. Strings of beads shivered in the perfumed breeze.
'Pass me some figs please Father'.
Father, squinting at the blinding mid-day sun, picked up a sprig of plump fruits from a marble platter and reached over to his daughter.
In one swift movement his hand was severed at the wrist, hot crimson completely showering the girl.
Father stared in disbelief at his grisly stump, his life force spurting in jets from divided vessels across his face and flecking the faded fresco beside him.
His daughter picked up his gushing hand, still holding the figs and wailed till her lungs burst.
Mother ran to her husband to comfort him, warm fluid covering her as she held his mutilated limb. It dripped loudly into the pool, clouding the surface like red goats milk.
A fleeting swoosh was heard before Mother herself was cruelly lifted into the air. She stared down at her white robe, where a razor-sharp silver spearhead came out below her sternum, twisting as it exited.
Dislodged just as quick in a gut-entangled heap, she began to scream uncontrollably, as her entrails slid out steaming hot, her venting blood coursing down them from her gored chest. It poured along her legs in a river of scarlet, slicking thickly around a wooden cross by the poolside.
The daughter held her head and shook it from side to side, her desolate eyes wide open with shock and terror.
She moaned noisily, repeating 'No, No, No!' over and over, swaying as her mind plummeted into madness.
Her soft leather waistband gave absolutely no resistance as a thick cutting sword scythed through her in a single devastating arc.
As her dumbstruck parents paused their own fatal agonies, they watched their daughter cut in half, her upper torso sliding into the water, bobbing over and arms outstretched in a cruel parody of their deep beliefs.
They both blinked through veils of blood, weakening lips uttering a final prayer
as their hearts broke.
The blue water of the family's pool slapped gently against the mosaic, whilst damselflies quivered nervously through the grove.
'Pass me some figs please Father'.
Father, squinting at the blinding mid-day sun, picked up a sprig of plump fruits from a marble platter and reached over to his daughter.
In one swift movement his hand was severed at the wrist, hot crimson completely showering the girl.
Father stared in disbelief at his grisly stump, his life force spurting in jets from divided vessels across his face and flecking the faded fresco beside him.
His daughter picked up his gushing hand, still holding the figs and wailed till her lungs burst.
A fleeting swoosh was heard before Mother herself was cruelly lifted into the air. She stared down at her white robe, where a razor-sharp silver spearhead came out below her sternum, twisting as it exited.
Dislodged just as quick in a gut-entangled heap, she began to scream uncontrollably, as her entrails slid out steaming hot, her venting blood coursing down them from her gored chest. It poured along her legs in a river of scarlet, slicking thickly around a wooden cross by the poolside.
The daughter held her head and shook it from side to side, her desolate eyes wide open with shock and terror.
She moaned noisily, repeating 'No, No, No!' over and over, swaying as her mind plummeted into madness.
Her soft leather waistband gave absolutely no resistance as a thick cutting sword scythed through her in a single devastating arc.
As her dumbstruck parents paused their own fatal agonies, they watched their daughter cut in half, her upper torso sliding into the water, bobbing over and arms outstretched in a cruel parody of their deep beliefs.
They both blinked through veils of blood, weakening lips uttering a final prayer
as their hearts broke.
As terrible wounds swept them inexorably towards their deaths, they caught a momentary glimpse of running helmeted men retreating into the olive trees beyond, their bloodied weaponry glinting in the Tyrrhennian sun.
