Either for the sake of scheme or superiority, he gradually sinks into the dark ocean of morbid passion. If Cronenberg spiked it with details, or Lone's face was soft as his butt, I'd fall deeply with Jeremy who again let his gender-confused soul tortured by his own delusion.
[I'm having an old friend for dinner...] People kill. Some for things that their victims have done, some, however, for reasons arisen from themselves. Their cravings, their sexual desires, their anger or grief. The second kind, are almost always the trickier.
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