Sabø†age is up to her ears in Depression's blood. Grinning like the motherfucking ass she is. Bringing him into Neverland was a retarded thing to do. I have no idea why I thought he wouldn't immediately become Sab's favorite toy. She's gone skeletal, an x-ray sort of thing, prancing around like stop-motion animation, hiding in the shadows with a top hat and a grin like a carnival clown. {"It" always scared the piss out of me as a kid.} She's dancing or something. At least she calls it dancing. More like shadowplay. And then she stops and grabs Depp's head and, well. Poor little fucker, if I hated him less I'd have pity. But his filth is stronger than One's ever was. Oozing like black oil, but it looks and smells of congealed blood. On the futon and the cracks in the walls. Crawling like maggots. I am made entirely of maggots. A colony of them in human skin. Isn't that amusing. She's wearing her mask. It's always terribly symbolic when she wears it. And I never have any idea what it's supposed to mean. It looks different, too. Not split down the middle anymore. Just black and white with a hint of old blood and yellow lighting. Lines all scribbly. She's grinning like motherfucker. Bastard. Cutting his head off with a bread knife. He doesn't scream. Doesn't move. Doesn't anything but lie there with that stupid expression on his face. He really believes that somehow, he's earned this. That it is his lot in life. And Massacre is still stuck in that chrysalis. It managed to move just long enough to rewrap the blindfold around its mouth.

Long paragraph. Depp is choking the life from my universe. And Sab can do nothing but rage at it. She hates him more than I do, because she realizes how unnecessary he is. I'm seeing the world too much through his eyes, everything's tinted brown. And some part of me realizes this is false, useless, can be done without. But the rest can't stop. It feels so just. So right.

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