Arid Rose

An Arid Rose is not something you want to go sniffing. Once touched, smelt, or seen, you're already a dead man walking. You see, once seen or smelt from a distance, it makes you wanna walk closer. It makes you want to hold that rose and smell it's aroma. Once there, once you hold it and smell it, it sucks the life from you in a brutally slow manner. It's not a good death. You start to feel weak, starting at the hands. Then it goes through your arms, all the way down to your legs and back up through your heart. Eventually, you're as withered as the rose itself. You won't be going to the afterlife. You won't be floating away. You'll be wandering in a field of roses. Except these ones aren't bright and colorful. Your afterlife is wandering with millions of roses withered away. You won't have anyone to talk to, to keep you company. You'll go insane after death, and wish for it all over. But it won't come.