Bathtubs of red she saw, as she graveled helplessly on the snow. She couldn't see her body. Bearing the weight of all she had witnessed and imagined at the ritual she wouldn't have even fantasized about observing something like this. It was obscene, really. First of all, the shadow had coercively interrogated her, Asmodeusly beheaded her and sanguineously kept it off, believe it or not, after her passing! The body waddled frantically in whichever direction possible, head fuzzy, in order to provoke a collision between itself and the latter, which resulted in no help. What disrespect! To offer the ritual-infused individual such a long beheading...?

Then a scream was ejected from her rotten throat - the red was her own blood. The red in the single river that protruded like the leg of a tarantula, somewhere black and somewhere brown, but mostly red. It was serene, there was no denying it; however, it still was gore. Gore brought a lump to her throat, it was revolting and, with the knowledge of it being her own, even more putrid. It was immoral. Be the beheading as it had been, she didn't want to witness its results for so long! That was why she cantered away, on all her hind legs, after they started spilling gore! What scarred her! What made her who she became!

Nevertheless, another scream of fear was projected out of her throat, because her vigorous rage was quickly milled. A being came. And this being, then, became all of her mind and body.It was a child. A smiling child. A smiling baring all of his few teeth child.

A Homo erectus.

The offspring smiled, and the woman's head was briskly carried towards someplace she couldn't really see, due to her eyes touching a chest - yet she did know.

A dread abyss.