I stare at my favorite plant. A witch once told me, talking to plants was a very good thing to die. I've taken it to it.

"This is disgraceful," I touch the trees leaves. "Such meager growth is not befitting such an expensive plant."

I roll my eyes. "You'll grow better or I'll have you clipped."

A week or so has passed since my last meeting with Eleanor. Her shop has been quiet. I take it upon myself to venture out, and see her.

She's closed. On a Tuesday.

I peer through the window. She's gone off to get married hasn't she? I slip through the glass, looking about. There's a note under the door. I bend down, picking it up.

A,

You'd tempt me too much, I know I can't resist you. I'm off to get married.

Silly woman. As if I won't tempt her after her wedding. I'd fully planned on fucking her at least 50 years after.

I crumble it, my eyes settling on the church.

Don't do it, Alastair. Be a good person Alastair.

But there I am. At the church. My fingertips brush against the door. One thing the stories got right. Churches and I don't quite mix.

I used to be quite the devout servant of God, actually. Ever in His patronage, bathing in his light.

Until I was cast into darkness. I push the door open a bit. There she is. A vision.

And there he is...

A nuisance.

I should let her go. I truly should. Let her be wed to this—is he matching crimson with green? On his wedding day.

Okay that's it.

This is unspeakable. Such horror. I step into the church. All heads turn toward mine.

She mouths my name. So beautiful. Look at her, ethereal. If anyone belongs in gods sight it's her, white against her glowing brown skin, she reminds me a statue of gold.

So beautiful.

My hand reaches out. I'll reveal myself here, in front of her in front of god. Is there much difference between the two?

Will I do this? Merely out of jealous or covetousness?

The answer, I find is yes, as my power rips through his back, pulling his heart from his back, satiated as it forgets it's best falling limply to the ground.

His blood splatters on her dress. She looks like a painting now, and I still find her quite beautiful. Her mouth is agape in shocks

She looks at me. But I am by the door, and he is on the floor and we both know I must've done this, she's just unsure how.

She begins to scream. It's lilting her scream, like a song, gratings ones ears. I enjoy it, letting it settle my skin.

Take her, I think. Take her back to my home, chain her as I so wish. But I won't. I tuck my clean hands into my jacket, and walk away.

"Alastair!" She calls after me. "What have you done here?!"

I look down at her human. I look up at her. "What have I done? Darling? From here? I've done nothing."

She storms up to me. I have to keep myself from smiling. Such a beautiful face fixed with such godly fury.

"I know you've done this. I can't prove it, and you know I can't, but I'll have you charged for this?"

"What judge can condemn me for a murder that never happened? You saw. His heart just,..." I open my hands. "Fell out of his chest. I've nothing to do with it:"

She pulls at my collar, pulling me in her eyes drying over mine, so obviously skeptical of me.

"What are you?"

"I'm in love, Eleanor. Utterly stricken by you—"

"You fiend."

I sigh. I see. She appears to be a mood, currently. I should take my leave.

"Then, I'll be round the bookshop sooner or later," I call, Carley pulling her fingertips from my collar.

She scoffs. "I see."