[00:23.799]These strange thorned vines spring from the ground,[00:31.122]they wind around me as they bind me down.[00:37.423]She moves across the rose garden[00:44.498]suspended in a dark cloud of flies[00:52.676]Her toes drag the tops of the flowers[00:59.863]and leave them blackened and shriveled in her wake.[01:48.427]Her hands dangle from thin strings of skin.[01:55.616]Her forearms they're like gun barrels smoking crimson.