The crimson dripped quietly, leaving a slight stain behind on her fingers. She felt warmer than she ever had before, as though she radiated some inner heat that she had never known, brought up from depths she had never seen or heard of. She felt utterly powerful. Blood roared through her veins like liquid fire, urging her on.

A self appointed task, she held the sparkling blade high in the air above her, gleaming downwards. The moment seemed to slow, and conscious of the fact that she was warm, she was unconscious to the fact that she was also entirely numb with fervor and passion. Her trembling fingers gripped the handle, though the hold was steady and true.

She knew what she had to do to please him. To please and honor and help and sacrifice her soul; to rid herself of her sins.

Without thought, the blade swung sharply through the air and plunged silently into her heart.