He hasn’t killed me yet, which I’m pretty sure means he loves me. His beautiful soul surpassed death, and in his death he found me. He is perfect in every way. I am besotted, and fully support him in his holy mission. I love him when he seeks the women in nightclubs. I adore him when he splits their heads open and burns the crosses into their flesh. I would do anything he asks of me whilst burying their still-warm corpses. All this I tell him, and he knows to be true.
And thus I find myself as bait to the sinners, clad in skin-tight leather and sent into the depths of hell itself; Saturday night clubbing.
Instantly I am lauded over. Men sniff around me like wild dogs over a scrap of meat. They smell my innocence. The air throbs with anger and overwhelming loudness. People grind and sway to the rhythm, sweat shimmering down their near-naked bodies as they move as one entity; the devil himself. I see his power and I am terrified. But I must stay strong. For my love.
Within an hour of seeking the worst of the whores and miscreants, I am downing tequila and dancing to Backstreet Boys. I have failed my lover, my God, but holy fuck am I having a good time. Once your body succumbs to the music it’s so easy to give in to everything else. The alcohol burning your throat becomes almost pleasant. You start to reciprocate the physical attention, and it’s like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Here, I am a queen, a goddess. I am freed of my bonds of servitude.
But then I see him through the crowds. He’s watching me with a mixture of utter disappointment and disgust. Shame and guilt flood my stomach and force its liquid contents back up my throat. He makes the symbol of the cross, washing his hands of me. He turns to leave, but I obediently follow.
Thirty minutes later and my brain is splattered on the bricks, my body mangled and broken by the bins. He’s crying. It’s sad, really; part of me pities him never knowing the pleasures of a sinful life. The rest of me hates this fucker for cutting mine short.
But soon I will be reborn, seeking my revenge by killing the pure, his children of innocence, leading them astray and dancing drunkenly to 90s dance tunes until my second death.