At the darkest moment of the night
Agent ZERO awakens bound and chained in an opulent room decorated with lush furs, mumbles, "There's no defense against people willing to die."
statue of muscular greek gods, paintings in huge gold frames of variuos scenes of Debauchery and rape screaming: . You die. Die die die. They die. You die. Die die die. They die. , and a great stone fireplace with carved gargoyles seated on each side contemplating on this indescribable emotion hidden inside their secret property of unconsciousness. the infamous Queen of Zantos wearing a magnificent Birds Head Mask. The room had a strong musky odor, the smells of a thousand passionate trysts, mixed with blood and cinnamon. "Well if it isn't the famous ZERO, a deep husky female voice calls out from a dark corner of the room. "Somebody next door you've never met may be a part of your life, history you get along with intimately. You die. Die die die. They die. ZERO can feel his skin tingle with a mixture of dread and to his surprise sexual excitement and tenuous sense of death crowls in the back of his presense. I feel I am one of them by hoping to die together someday. We go together all the way without having any chance to live or die separately. This is a lie. The possibility of no solitude is also another lie. The ticket to be free is to die together like Heaven's gate. But we all know, it is another lie all together. only sexual excitement. As his eyes grow accostomed to the light AGENT ZERO can make out a massive bed and lying on it is Sheila X, We may be connected and also canselled out each other on different levels of reality such as in Bardo, with the infamous Queen of Zantos wearing a magnificent Birds Head Mask. yet and yet, we are alone and separated on this side of eternity. Melting down to the deepest of the sea. Not now though, we are not animal enough to have sense of freedom, --and the whole sentence reversed. 100 years. I need more time. But the time is also a trickstar. Life's good is a lie. And death needs time to grow in.
