A History of Violence

Fire burns the worst sins. Trust is overrated.

Killing for pleasure is messy, bloody, chaotic...

He was supposed to die.

But now I have him where I want him, I can't help but taste him a little.

All of them.

They've gotten under my skin. These Sacred Hearts boys.

The way they look at me, a need, a hunger clawing inside, I recognize it in the mirror. It's their eyes. They tell me they don't give a fuck if they live or die. That I'm the prey and they're the carnivores. That they're soulless.

But in ...