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MK Kilmarnock
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Hate, hate, HATE!!!
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((Liam "Brook" Brooks, continued from It's Everything's Nature to Fall))

This place was perfect.

Just for you… I’ll make this place entirely for you, Tiffany, and nobody else. Until the day I die, it’s all about us. And once I do, we’ll be together again…

On the outside, the spot was just a simple clearing, a spot that managed to be free of trees or heavy undergrowth. It wasn’t large, sure, but it was nice and enclosed, sheltered by the trees that grew all around. The canopy was nice and full, yet it let in more than enough light to allow plants to grow. So, in Brook’s eyes, it was perfect. There was no spot more deserving for her grace.

Tiffany was, fitting to Brook’s vision, the centerpiece of this area, which he would dedicate to her existence. He had finished positioning her on the ground, crossing her hands to cover the unsightly hole in her chest, the only thing on her form that could be considered a flaw. Not that it was a flaw anymore, not to Brook. He peered down to her, smiling as she graced his presence. Her body had grown cold, and the blood… the filthy blood of hers was nearly drying. Yet, if there was any blood in this world that could cease to be disgusting, it was hers.

He hesitantly dipped his hand down until his fingertip lightly brushed some of the caked blood sitting below her breast. He cringed at the touch alone, pulling his hand back to see if any of the substance had clung to his fingertips. It did, of course, and Brook had to fight the revulsion. This was Tiffany… just a part of her, and a part of her that would help to compliment the beauty of her monument, her immortalization. He stuck out his tongue, shaking with trepidation, and touched the red humor to his taste buds.

Something fought against the gag welling up in his throat; perhaps it was the perverted desire to have his blood join with Tiffany’s, an idea which twisted the reality of something so innocent and meaningful to a delusion of grandeur. This wasn’t about him, not yet, no matter how equal and salty his own blood should be.

“Yes, Tiffany… just for you… even the worst parts of all of us can be used to return to the planet!” He grinned, motioning to the small scattered groups of wildflowers that grew around the clearing, which he intended to transplant tomorrow. It needed more, however. It would not just be Tiffany’s blood seeping into the ground and supplying life from senseless death. No, others would join her. Still, they better not make the mistake… this was all about her. This garden of blood, this Bloodgarden, would render all other things meaningless.
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Spoilers, Ricky didn't win V5

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Bloodgarden · The Woods: Coastal