'I'm sorry' were the last words uttered from my mouth before I impaled Sasha's heart with that long piece of metal. The blade penetrated her chest, and as she laid there under me, laced in blood, on my bed, my lover's heart bleeding out all the tenderness that I had filled it with, the only picture in my head was of the meat pie baking in the oven. But I knew she still loved me tenderly. She loved me like earthworms loved their dirt.
There is a man crying near the corridor where I am walking. What else was I to make of her Wake? Her mother her father et cetera had sadness painted on their faces. I had to smirk a little.
'… Adrian' I said to Sasha's husband. He hung there like a portrait, unwavering except for the flowing of tears cascading down his cheeks.
'Your sorrows..' I told him as I slid my arm around him. 'Are with me.. .'
There is something unsettling about men crying. I never understood it. Why have men cried while I never have? Did my emotions defect from me since I was born? Perhaps. A good example would be of course Sasha's murder, Which did not bother me in the slightest way.
Adrian looked up at me, pathetic like. 'Dear Ferris. You have been -' and by now he's clutching me, oh how uncomfortable I was '– like a brother to me'. He dropped his chin on my shoulders and I had half a mind to shake him right off, but in the name of good manners and all that was civil in nature (civil, yes, that's me all right) I whispered 'Your children need you now. Be strong, friend. Your wife would of wanted –' and on and on with that blubber.
As I watch Adrian leave me I turn the corridor and wander the mansion, gazing upon portraits of the generations of Emmerich's from way back in time.
In a secluded hallway the picture of Rudolph Emmerich cast knowing eyes down upon me. He tells me 'Your scum', and tells me 'You fucking murderer, you killed her, you stabbed her and drank her blood, the blood of my daughter's child, MY BLOOD', but I laugh back at him, and smile at him, unable to reach me in his framed prison. Then walk on, aware and uncaring of the insanity that has consumed me.