I have eaten his strength, my master’s strength. I am now my master. But, it is not good, I have taken his power, but he has still taken from me. He is a bastard. He eats and eats, but I keep him from eating. My hands still have his stains. I think about his ribs and how they burst like squeezed fruit. I hated it. He didn’t think I could do it. I did. I drank his blood and it sang to me. It told me It would keep me, hold me till it crushed me, but I think it will not. It lied, I’ve never met it that it would lie. I know that’s why my Master is a bastard.