The dawn’s rays illuminate a macabre scene, two forms lie lifeless on the cobble-stones of the Quarter Ouvrier. A pool of sanguine blood encircles the two husks and the viscous liquid seeps into the crevices between the stones. The bodies were deliberately positioned in a mocking lovers’ embrace, as evidenced by the displacement of the liquid and distinct drag marks.
The waifish woman, clothed in tattered and blood-soaked rags, is blanched white in complexion save for a savage, crimson tear wound at her neck. Clutched in her lithe hand is a small blade, caked in viscera and blood. Her lover is horribly disfigured and barely recognizable as human. Remnants of chunks of flesh, ear, and appendages are scattered around the two. Incisions mar the edges of the mouths of both, carved upward into the semblance of a rictus grin.
Within the nimbus of blood, three distinct square-shaped indentations, arranged in the shape of a triangle, are present and accompanied by a series of booted tracks.