Humiliation is the feeling of a hand upon your shoulder, a tiny voice that asks "What's wrong?" even as you choke on your own fear.
"Marie..." you manage to gasp, but that is all that comes in this state, for the kishin grips your throat again and renders you useless, struggling, and wriggling in his grasp. You are his worm now, an insect caught in the grip of a merciless crow, and there is something about the struggle, something about the fight that makes everything wonderful again.
Laughter pours out in a wild reverie. You throw your hands out, touching the stars that pulse at your sides, clutching the universe in your hands like dough. Squeeze the universe between your fingers, let it ooze between your fingertips like jelly in a child's grasp.
"Stein!"
She is in your hands now, a delicate piece of pottery pressed up against the wall, still moist and ready for the molding.
"Quiet." You smile and place an almost delicate finger upon her lips. Her eyes tremble with a longing that you have never been able to understand, a drive that you have never been able to comprehend. And so the fingertip becomes your palm pressing over her mouth, suffocating her as she struggles beneath your simian hand. This is what you've been waiting for, if not since childhood, then perhaps since she first moved in. Your left hand trembles in awe as it glides up the fine curve of her side. Yes. The incision will be perfect.
The scalpel seems to materialize in your hand, your left hand intimately plucking it from your pocket. Surely, this is what lovers do. Isn't it?
She barely resists, but whether it is out of compassion or a lack of ability eludes you, as matters of the heart usually do. You are made of steel, as finely tuned as the instrument of your profession, but as the scalpel sinks into her side, eliciting a muffled moan from beneath your palm, you can't help but melt.
"So beautiful..."
Tears seep from the sides of her eyes, for those are the words she has wished to hear for so many years, if not from you, then from the man who once loved and cherished her, the man who perished at the hands of the enemy long ago. B.J...
Your grip loosens on the handle of the scalpel and you take a step backwards, your senses reeling with lightning and thunder and fire. Marie uses the opportunity to struggle free, gasping for air like a beached fish begging for water. But it isn't long before the feeling subsides and you slam her back into the wall, a grin painted across your face. Twisting your fist into her gut, you giggle at her cry, the sorrowful sound that tears from her throat as you strike her with a Soul Menace. It's time to silence your subject, time to prepare the body for what you intend to do. It's time to snap her neck.
A voice chuckles behind you and you feel another touch, this time upon your back. The snake woman is here, gliding her fingers up and down your spine. She glides to take her place at your side, stroking the arm that holds Marie in place.
"Well done, Stein. I knew you had it in you. I always do get what I want. Now-" she leans forward on her tiptoes, bringing her mouth to your ear. "Finish her."
The sound of Marie's final scream is music to your ears.