Goddess Exultant

Bow before me. Worship me, adore me. Hail me as your Goddess of War, your Goddess of Death.  Most men would lament the fact that I'm not a deity of love or passion. Just look at me, is it any wonder they think its such a shame that all I care about is slaughter? Don't worry, I gave you permission to look. That's right, drink in the view. Imagine the things you'd love to do me, the things you'd love for me to do to you. That is all it will ever be, though: a figment of your imagination.

The face you covet? It will only be brightened by a smile when men are dying at my feet.

The breasts you lust over? You'll never taste them or touch them. If you're lucky, some of your blood might splash them in the end.

The curves your eyes are fixated upon? Men will only feel them brush up against them slightly as I sashay through their ranks and cut them down. Some more fortunate boys might even graze them as their bodies fall to the ground.

So much beauty, so much I could give to men. So many things they'll never, ever have. Even if I didn't find them good for nothing but dying, it would still be beneath me. I am a Goddess after all. My work must come first.

I don't simply destroy, you know. I create just as much. I shape mountains of bodies and cause rivers of blood to flow. I fill the once empty, silent air with the wails and shrieks of millions of dying voices. I populate countless graveyards where my now silent devotees are piled up beneath the earth to serve as mute testament to my power. No one can stop me. You can throw every man alive at me and I'll kill them all without breaking a sweat. In fact, I will kill every man alive. And every man that ever will live.

I am your Goddess of War. I'm on every battlefield you can imagine, butchering my enemies and exulting in my prowess. There will never be an end to it. I am absolutely insatiable: oceans of blood cannot slake my thirst and entire landscapes made from the bodies of men I've killed will not satisfy my appetite. Now suffer for me.  Beg for mercy, scream my name. Praise me with your agony.