“Then what are you, if you are not like him? Do you drink too?”
He smiled but it was not a true smile, it was a mask to hide something he did not want her to see.
“Y-you are like him,” she gasped. “You are a monster.”
He smiled again, revealing a veil of a face that frightened her.
“No different than you. No different than nature intended or anything else of this world. Would you call a lion a monster for how he dines? Or you, and the religion you service, do you not drink the blood . . . of Christ?”
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