I've killed on purpose. I shot a my friends girlfriend. I fired my gun into her body until she fell limp to the floor. I unleashed a shadow on the world that brought death in it's shadow.
[Looking at the young boy, she moves closer. The bright awake eyes turn round in her skull as she moves as close as she can without touching him, whispering now.]
Do you have any idea how someone else's blood feels on your skin? How hot it is? As if it's going to boil through your skin. As if it's searching for a new body to enter as soon as it's realized from the old one.