She lost herself in the work, and he had to admit he was a fan. The finished product would be even better. A dead queen with a message left behind. He was here, and he was to be feared.
"Yes, it's your fault. Wicked girls need to be punished. Cleanse your sins through your blood. Through the pain."
She was. Her skin was beginning to go a whiter shade of pale. The blood soaked her clothes and painted the cell a rich shade of crimson. Art should always be so beautiful.
"On the wall you will write who helped you with your penance. Tell them who was here." A little message before she left this world and entered the pit of hell. Lucifer himself would consider this one a prize. How she would dance on the rack. Screams and tears and all that blood.
Rip her apart and put her back together again.
"With those hands. Do it now."
She was taking the orders now instead of giving them. "On your knees, shake that hair back so your face is not covered. Own your sins, Bitch."