Cold.
That was the word to describe him.
A heart as cold as ice.
What thoughts were twirling through that poisoned mind of his?
Did he ever think for just one moment that there was another way?
No.
No he didn't.
He wanted this.
This hatred.
This poison.
The darkness.
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Cold
Storie d'amoreThe darkness would consume him; nothing would change that. He must submit to the darkness. The cold.