For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand

 As I sat in my hospital bed, I thought about what the Mother of Snakes had told me. It had been the truth. All of it.

My father had been a bagman for the mob. He didn't kill people, but he cleaned up after those who did. He buried the bodies. And one night, when my mother was away, he couldn't leave me alone in the house, so he took me with him. And he told me not to look, but I did.

The FBI is outside the room now. I told them I would make a deal with them. Tell them everything I know. All they had to do was provide me with a laptop and internet connection and I would make a full confessions and give up all my contacts.

I'm not. I'm mean, I won't squelch on a deal, but I'll be dead before they ask me anything.

You see, there's a mirror in this room, too. And I don't think the Mother of Snakes liked me shooting her. But I had to.

No women, no children, no good people. That was my rule. Just kill bad people, just for money. Because I knew if I killed for myself, I would like it too much. I didn't want to be like my dad.

Especially after I took so much time to kill him.

I can see Stheno now. She looking at me through the mirror. I can see her fangs. She looks slightly less beautiful with them out.

I'm going to die. But I'm okay with that. I haven't killed anybody that didn't deserve it. And I have some good memories to rely on. I can remember my mother, the sad look on her face disappearing as she read to me.

Come away, O human child!

To the waters and the wild

With a faery, hand in hand.

For the world's more full of weeping than you can understand.