[Salone]

"I can stand. I am my own man."

Lev stood as he spoke in a gruff voice, walking with the little range that his chains gave him. Stepping out in to the hot air, he squinted as sunlight hit him. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust.

A corpse. A beautiful corpse. Splayed out. Ripe for the feasting! Lev groaned from a sudden headache, unable to cradle his head in his hands. The SAINT himself! THE SAINT! This is mine!

Lev lurched forward, running as best as he could. He fell a few feet from the body, screaming unintelligible sounds as he crawled the last few feet. With eyes glassed with ecstasy he reared back his head, plunging it in to the open, putrid torso. He feasted, ripping at the holy organs and silvery blood that the saint's corpse bathed in. There was no reasoning. There was nothing else. For now, Lev and the great Saint's body were the only thing in existence. And he would not rest until the body had been consumed in to his own.