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September 19, 2011
The man with the eyes of a cat. The man who had first taken her to his bed, who had taught her with sharp metal and bruising blows. The man who taught her that hate and bitterness were the only ways to survive, to kill was the ultimate power over mankind, that bloodshed was necessary and good.

It was both need and fear that forced her to seek him out now. Paranoia. To hunt is to keep from being hunted.

She had killed him, of course, but that never stopped him.

Watch over you shoulder, little girl. I will follow.