one who loved flames. her lover was killed by flames. she died in flames.
one who prowls the lonely streets at night in life is bound to prowl them in eternity.
but they are not yet one of us.
tie them that they may watch.
to love the cat, is to be the cat!
a symbol, master.
she loved the bull ring and the matador. she danced to their destruction. now she dances to her own destruction. her dance is of skulls.
el dia de los muertos. a celebration in her country.
with the loss of her lover, this one cast herself into the volcano's fire.
as i said, a worshipper of snakes, and of smoke, and flames.
it would seem so, master.
as you wish, master
come!
the moon!. is soon gone!
there is little time left for the remainder of the evening's pleasures.
at the first sight of the morning sun's rays, we must be gone.
it would seem so, master
the wolf man informs me that the next one is the woman who murdered her husband on their wedding night. now she dances with his skeleton.
she is to be mine! it is so spoken!
well?
when!?
the moon is almost gone!
at the first sight of the morning's rays' light.
i would have time for my own pleasures!
i understand, master
there are others.
she lived as a zombie in life, so she will remain forever a zombie in death.
the moon sinks lower into the hills! we must hurry to the finish.
you had the mummy cancel all the others scheduled for this session.
the moon is almost gone!
oh, if there is only time!
all others were but infinitessimal bits of fluff, compared to her this one would have died for feathers, furs, and fluff. and so she did!
for what!?!
you mean!
is there time?
thank you, master! thank you.