Rattlesnakes Hammered on the Wall

Seven of them pinned in blood by long, shiny tails, three of them still alive and writhing against the wood, their heaviness whipping the wall as they try to break free, rattles beating in unison, hisses slowly dying in silence, the other four hanging stiff like ropes to another life, patterns of torn skin dripping with power and loss, the wonder of who might have done this turning in shock as all seven suddenly come alive when I get closer, pink mouths trembling with white fangs, lunging at me then falling back, entangled in one another to form twisted letters that spell a bloody word I can’t understand.