You twist below earths casing with unease. Ravens caw awakens you once more with such rasp of unholy calling. Skeletonised featureless humanity with broken casket worn by years of gluttonous worms and maggots frenzy. Weighted down with soiled crust, you excavate within your grave, driven by the glorious call of that murderous brood, pecking demandingly above with such Tomb Stone drumming. Appealing for their master to return. Upon the midnight hour such clawing bone appears through earthen clays that fall beside thee. Back once more to their righteous hiding place. The clock slowly ticking for such a time when freedom will be your reckoning. Eventually to bare such sight as no man would invite to call. Resting wearily after such rite you ****** your caller from its lair and feast on sullen flesh and blood as around you feathers floating around you in surprised cascading chase. Not the most captivating meal but such will sustain you until sinew repairs itself and ****** meat once more returns to bone. Plenty is the time when metamorphoses completes for more appetising morsel. Awakening complete it is time to delve into this new time. A future where you are once more free to feed on living flesh. Once more to be Master is your calling. Off you go into the night, off you go to have your way and feast till Devilled hearts content. Into nights shadows do you stride.