Thoughts of Halet

You laugh so much; a vacant bow. I can see why no one cares for you. That you would suffer yourself to serve the cruelest of the worst intentions...
You laugh in vain, for it bequeaths your righteous heart of old. I smirk at what I behold. You are losing this inevitable fight, human. You are losing, because you are weak. You pathetic excuse for an interminable evidence of God's aristocratic love. Hypocrite. You are a fool to think that anyone could love you.
You cry at night; first softly, and then uncontrollably. I can hear your bed rattling the walls...this makes me smile inwardly. I know you can tell when I am thinking of you...oh yes, I know of you.
Fists hammer upon the flexible walls of your soul, screaming to get out of your flesh-worn cage of purity...a false purity, at best. I support your inclination that I am evil, and that all I want is for your life to end in a miserable torture unforseen by everything that bears historical significance. You plead to have my host at her worst, so why do you think I would bestow mercy and grace to thee? How I want to choke the life out of you slowly...that I may be able to see your eyes widen, and your tongue become dry with an open gale. Swallow your pride...if you can. If I do not choke you, it will. You are a petty fool, indeed.
If you want proof that I exist...
...Just go to my host and she will show you. Only if you wish it, though...I laugh at your inuendos. I am the essence of everything that is sought to be destroyed...and the vibration of everything that hates.
You will come to know my vengeance with an inexplicable impatience for peace...but I will grant you none.
For my host's suffering, you shall die.
But, of course, of course, not before I show you many...many...things.