Log
from December 4th (AM):
My Priestess and I...we have a lot in common. I think that's what
drew me to her, initially. It's why I kept coming back to her when I can't even
fuck her.
I knew I'd need to be around, for this part.
Crept into her room - those naughty, naughty nurses didn't even bat
an eye, they were too busy with their nosebleeds. Robin was lying there, tubes
up her nose and an IV bag full of blood. Chest all encompasses in casts and
bandages and stitches and god knows what else. It looked as though it had been
cleaned in there obsessively - I'm going to assume someone employed an
Oathbreaker and they had an OCD freak out.
She'd have been mended in a second, if I'd slipped inside.
Like fuck I was going to do that.
I tore through that cast like it was tissue paper. Her chest was
utterly wrecked; I have no idea how many surgeries went into putting that mess
together, but it's not like it matters now.
I finished the job, tore out her mangled heart, and drank the muscle
dry.
She loved you, and you tore her heart out. Literally.
ReplyDeleteBefore, I thought that you could be good. That deep down, the Red Cap would somehow be influenced by the original you, and she would stand for any morals you held as a result. But clearly I was wrong. Now I realize that it doesn't matter if you're a Blood Vessel, a Greyskin, a Dying Man...
We're all just monsters like the rest of the Fears.
Why do you think I kill your kind whenever I can? When all the monsters are gone I will be done.
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