She was a demented sort of being.
One typically found in perfect composure.
Down to the fact that her hair ties always matched her polish,
her beautifully polished bloodthirsty talons.
At every opportunity she made incisions upon her victims.
Gouged their eyes out and tore at their flesh.
Left innumerable wounds upon each body she considered a canvas.
Even when she withdrew her grasp she nicked every vein.
And when she was finished, it was a masterpiece.
She lined her dolls up in an orderly fashion.
She managed to take every thing she could.
The one thing that always bothered her, however, was that she could never devoid each carcass entirely of its life.