Tears slipped down her face as she felt the last drops of humanity draining from her soul. She had brief feelings of this before, a need-no, a thirst for human flesh. The disease had already been rooted inside of her, It had rotted all of her skin and now it seemed to be rotting her mind. She was finally becoming what they had called her... A Zombie
Las fundas pasiones y las terribles locuras de los príncipes y de la plebe, aquellas locuras que son el drama y la unidad. Son el eterno descanso de los versos negros que se escriben con sangre y se escuchan en la oscuridad, solo son los sollosos de los cantos infernales de los lobos y la prosa profunda de mi oscuridad.