No resting in peace to my victims.
Just hanging in the air eternally.
You will be always looking at the image of the murder site of yours in the limitless flow of time.
The image of the face being crushed.
The image of the belly being ripped.
The image of the limbs being cut.
Too many to enumerate all.
Time spent among the piles of corpses.
I regard it as peace, fate, and power.
In loneliness I appreciate it to create hell.
Not a single ray of light can cross my path.

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