I am knee-deep in gore. I have four hands, and hold a decapitated head in each hand. I have two great vampire teeth, and I bite into the tortured flesh that surrounds me (I torture all flesh). I reach into the belly, and disembowel the belly; and the intestines flop out onto my hand, and make a slick slapping sound against my hand. I have four hands and four faces, and fangs in each of the faces. I wander this small world of destruction and gore (I am the master of all this gore, and its cause). I stab the neck through with my sharp nails, and watch the blood flow down the nails and down the neck; and the blood makes little streams down the body, makes lovely patterns down the neck and body, running in streams, red streams like tiny red rivers. And the blood is sticky where it's thin and can be smeared, and wet where it's thick and runs in tiny rivers; and there is a metallic smell and a metallic taste to the blood, and when smeared over the skin it gives a ruddy color to the skin, a good attractive ruddy color. But when the bowels flop out onto the hand, there is a sad look to the bowels, as if they have been defeated and they are flopping out in sad resignation. So I stand among all my gore and am king of the gore and queen of the gore, and I have penises and vaginas all over my body - I am sick with penises and vaginas. For there is life in all this gore and death in all this gore - and so I stand knee-deep in gore and am glorified among the gore.