"How do we begin to covet?...
"We covet what we see every day."
And I...I covet my princess.
As she knows I am hers, I know she is mine...mine. Mine to protect,
mine to obey, mine to feed...and to be fed from. Her blood is mine as my
blood is hers. She bleeds my blood....
She cries my tears. Cries them because I cannot.
Her tears, they are sweet when they are her own....Mine are embittered
with blood, tainted by the blood and screams of my victims. Each time she
cries my tears I see them, reflected dully in crimsoned droplets, hear
them screaming deep within me....
My princess reaches her hand up, and removes my mask. She gently touches
my face with soft, cool hands.
One by one, like lambs to the slaughter, the ghosts retreat from her
caress into the abyss, and are dead to me again. Her kiss dispels the screams.
For my princess, I will silence the lambs. I will kill them all, once
and again.
They are not mine. She is mine.
