Tears begin to soak into the pillow, just as blood drips from the stained knife as if it began to cry.
Whose blood is it? Could it be yours or mine? I only became a creature when I faced my enemies, yet you completed this heinous crime without hesitation.
What has caused this act? My mind ponders, though perhaps you hated me from the start.
I only ever saw innocence in those black coal eyes, since when did that fire ever ignite inside? Though it may have always been there, perhaps I've just never taken a close enough look.
The flame had only grown larger once you plunged the knife into me. As hot that fire may be, I still witnessed cold icy hateful eyes shoot into me. But now, here we lay.
With time ticking as blood drips down. Slowly, together, we wait for the gates of Hell to pull us both down.