I've heard rumors.
Whispers that something isn't right.
And I know that already. I've known it for a long time.
A very long time.
I just didn't tell them. But...
You've figured it out already.
You can see right through me, can't you?
You know what I'm thinking. What I'm feeling.
What I'm going to do.
You know it's too late.
But I see in your eyes--you're going to tell somebody.
I can't let that happen.
So I'll bury you quietly, far away where your body will never be found.
But I can't risk you telling anyone.
You have to die.