The Despairing Posture of Their Fall: WHCD Edition

The Plague swept the kingdom and the prince's subject were dying like flies.

Blood was its Avator and its seal — the redness and the horror of blood.

In response, prince lavishly provisioned his castle, then gathered all the fancy people behind the safety of its thick walls.

When his dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. 

 Finally, they welded the doors shut so no one could enter or leave.

This wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of ingress or egress to the sudden impulses of despair from without or of frenzy from within.

Then they partied!

The prince had provided all the appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there were ballêt-dancers, there were musicians, there were cards, there was Beauty, there was wine. All these and security were within. Without was the “Red Death.”

But uh-oh!  Spoiler!  The Plague got in!

And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a thief in the night.

And that was that. 

And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death MAGA Republican Party held illimitable dominion over all.

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