[Get it out, she has to get it out, she needs to just say it and get it over with and go back to living whatever she had that constituted as a life before Anna.]

Nay, not always.

[She shakes her head, tries to draw what comfort she can from the tender hands holding hers.]

Not as I have been.

[Damn her eyes, why can't she speak plainly. Enough dancing about, she needs to say what she means and be done with it, spare them both her sniveling.]

Even before this place, I was a monster, a wicked, wretched thing. A dark and terrible spirit had made a home in my body and mind, twisting them both to suit its ghastly appetite.

[She risks a glance up at Anna, only to wince and immediately look back down, too frightened by what she might see there to hold her gaze.]

Our cellar became a crypt. Its walls were lined from end to end with the bones of those whose great misfortune it was to have known me.

[She draws one of her hands away, wiping quickly at the corners of her eyes. Still, she doesn't have the heart to look at Anna.]

...I understand if your heart has turned against me. I don't know why I ever thought I could hold a place in it, being as I am.