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I only picked up fragments of what he was saying.
He spoke of an ungodly scream that lacerated the silence of the night;
of a gathering of all the family members;
of a search in the direction of the sound.
Then...
The sound of his voice
became frighteningly clear,
as he whispered
of a violated grave,
of a body wrapped in a shroud, disfigured but
nevertheless breathing,
nevertheless quivering, nevertheless alive!
He pointed to my clothes.
They were
mud-caked and bloodstained!
I didn't speak.
And he took,
gently, one of my hands,
Have you ever tried to write stories
inspired by reality?
Reality...
Always lies beyond,
on the outside,
or below,
all the stabilized forms,
be they of society
as well as of the spirit.
In the abysses,
at the bottom of the sea,
at the South Pole.
Of all the subjects more or less melancholic,
which one,
if we follow humanity's universal understanding of it,
is the most melancholic?
Death
is the obvious answer.
And when is this most melancholic of subjects
at its most poetic?
When it allies itself to beauty.
Therefore,
the death of a beautiful woman is, undoubtedly,
the most poetic subject in the world.
"I'll wait for you at midnight in the park under the big oak. Hector."
CARMUS - INTRODUCTION TO METAPHYSICAL MEDICINE
Yes...
Ah, yes...
Yes...
Alan...
My love...
Yes...
Yes...
I'll kill you if you go back with William!
No! Let me go!
No!
No!
I don't want to!
I don't want to...
No...
Yes...
Yes...
I live only when I love.
Go away! Begone! - No... I beg you...
Go away!
Don't reject me.
I hate you, I despise you!
I love men.
Men! Do you understand?!
No, that's not true.
Yes, it is! I hate you. You're a murderer! Leave me!
I can't live only with you anymore.
I will never leave you ever again.
We will always be together!
I'd rather die
than do this.
No, don't say that.
You can't...
Because ...
... Elisabeth...
I love you!
"Blood is the source of life:
Only blood makes the dead come back to life!
And we will drink from your spring!"
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