Passiflora Fatale

Excerpt from the Journal of Dr. Alistair Whitmore – April 3rd, 1915 Southern Conservatory, Midnight "At the stroke of twelve, the blue passion flower unfurled before me—its tendrils luminous beneath the lantern light, as though spun from moonlight itself. The air was thick with its scent: floral, yes, but with an undercurrent I can only describe as almondine and faintly narcotic. I noted the flutter of bat wings above—its silent pollinators, as eerie as they are essential. The locals whisper that the plant holds both remedy and ruin. I suspect they are right. I shall take a cutting."