How you cry for the pain of the world. You cry to me, wondering how I can do the things I do.
Such heart-breaking innocence you have, Allen. Innocence and innocence. Innocence warping innocence. It makes me want to hold you and torture you.
Tyki feels the same way, even if he doesn’t remember what I do.
It’s all a lie, Allen. Your innocence. Your Innocence is another cruel joke God has played on you while trying to take it from you.
I think I cursed it when I first met you. Even before I knew who you were for certain.
You exorcists are all such dolls. Pretty dolls, diddled by your passions into being played with by Innocence. It made me want to cut your strings. It made me want to play with you all.
You may think I’m mad, but we’re all a little mad. Those of us who remember. Those of us who writhe in ancient pain we cannot forget.
You’ll writhe, too, Allen. Writhe and remember. Until you forget the way you always do.
I never do.