There was a calm, pondering - a breath of nothing but dread that escaped the wall between us. 

"my son please tell me, this is but a joke?"

I grinned deeply, so far down it was as if my stomach too was grinning with me.  I half closed my right eye as the crevices of my cheeks reached up "no father, it is a sin to lie to you in front of the lord".

There was a gurgling that could be heard in the distance, as if to ironically break the silence.  The sound of blood, half mixed with saliva, caught in her throat as she grasped recklessly for air. 

The hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention in pure pleasure.  I felt no remorse for her - as she was yet another one of those wonderlust women, those beautiful (devilishly beautiful) women.   She leached, she begged, she entertained . . . and now, in the cellar coldness of the left corner where the pews and the escape door meet, she bled.

I let out a deep, reverberating chuckle inside my head as I took a deep breath of satisfaction.

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