My blood, sweat, tears, and my last dance. Take it all away. My blood, sweat, tears, and my cold breath. Take it all away.

How long ago did it all start? Jennie doesn't remember when she first went crazy, when she transformed into a madman running in pursuit of her sin.

She comes from a very strict religious family where no one ever tolerated disobedience, sinfulness or lack of faith. In the Kim family, part of a cult founded by her father, their god was him - all eighteen years she lived with the belief that her father was a real deity, salvation that came down from heaven, forcing repentance.

She never missed a single meeting, living carefully in terror of committing sin that would require repentance on her knees, sometimes involving beatings in honor of their false god.

The real deity, in her opinion, she met in college - a real angel who fell from heaven for the amusement of her sinful soul. She didn't yet know this angel was fallen.

Her madness didn't come suddenly. It started with regular addiction - following her, knowing where she lived, what time she went to bed. Hell, she probably knew more about her than she knew about herself.

Her eyes were what Jennie wanted to drown in, forgetting her problems, her insignificant existence. Her whole meaning of life became centered around the girl who didn't know she existed.

The pictures of her face that Kim drew in the evenings while sitting on the balcony, counting every star and knowing every constellation by heart, became more and more obscene over time. How she turned into such a pathetic, disillusioned sinner in her existence - she cannot explain, knowing only that she was a prisoner of those eyes, a prisoner of a fallen angel.

She is sick, particularly sick with desire for her body. She wanted to merge with her, become one with her, absorb her completely, knowing she would be in her power, in the power of her angel.

The plan came to her naturally. She gathered courage and approached her with trembling voice, offering to come to her place after classes with a lie about a shared artistic project.

Kim couldn't believe it when she actually entered her house, her temple, now completely in her power. Offering a glass of water, she accepted without hesitation, gratefully taking it in her hands and talking about how kind Jennie was.

I'm sorry.

She comes to her senses very slowly, feeling the cold stone floor and damp basement walls beneath her. Her hands are in handcuffs, and attempts to remove them prove useless.

The fluorescent lights in the basement flicker on, causing her to hiss in pain as her eyes adjust to the brightness. She sees Kim slowly approaching, squatting down in front of her.

Jennie's cold hand runs from her wrist to her neck, falling to her waist. She can't believe she's touching her deity, the most desired thing in her life. At that moment she realizes she's capable of committing any sin for her sake.

Taking her thin wrist, Jennie brings it to her mouth, biting it lightly. Why did she do this? She doesn't know, maybe to make sure she's real and she's not delirious.

"I need your body, I need your soul, your mind and your body, my angel," Jennie says. "You will be mine forever."