They'd always remember watching me cut a man's heart out, and that memory would stain anything else. Damn splinters. Fine, don't tell me about them. But he's just stopped listening to me.
Body parts scattered like flower petals, stirred into a red mess. I didn't like that last, made me nervous. I looked at him slowly, and I could see the slight difference in the pants leg where the hilt of the knife was sticking out of his boot. My eyes were drawn to the big pulse in his throat, I watched that rapid rise and fall in the side of his neck as if it were some sort of jewel, something to watch sparkle and glitter in the lights.
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