Ringmaster Jack's chalk-white, heavily powdered face tilted upward. His bloodshot pupils, streaked with cracked veins of blood, reflected none of the fear of a man on the verge of death. Instead, they blazed with a deranged light, a fanatical obsession so intense that it seemed to warp his very features.
He stared fixedly at the slender, elegant hands held before him, at the golden radiance still clinging to every lock of Adrian's hair and his graceful shoulders. The vivid red lipstick on Jack's lips trembled violently, stretching all the way to his ears. He completely ignored the pain from his torn-open throat, as well as the number -999 violently cracking apart before his chest.
"Perfect... Absolutely perfect..."
