After a while, our frequent disputes devastated the mutual connection we made for each other. He made a decision to break up our connubial bond. On the day of his intended departure, the air grew denser, and recollections of having embarked on hard labor and painful agony upon a beloved's abandonment tormented me like never before. With tears falling from my eyes, I regarded Adriel walking out of my life. The painful agony of losing somebody in life is, to any further extent, utterly unbearable. And so, on the spur of the moment, I rushed down the baroque staircase to the hallway of warriors, took a 10-foot spear from the hand of one of the Spartan sculptures, carried it in my flimsy arms, and stormed out from the front entrance of the mansion. Upon seeing Adriel wandering beyond the fountain towards the gate and over the bridge of the Garden of Death, I quickened my pace in pursuit of him. I was running out of time. The toxicity of the opium made my heart beat and rush blood more rapidly than normal, giving me additional focus, agility, abnormal strength thus far. I charged at his back turned against me without a sound, giving him insufficient time to evade my attack. He yelped in excruciating pain, spattered scores of blood, and glanced at me with horrified eyes while gaping in shock. The head of the spear, as I had observed, pierced into his epigastric region of his abdomen, knocking him down to the ground as a result. Grinding to a halt, I hoisted the spear in upright pose and situated its bottom edge at the mud-spattered soil. I laughed bitterly as blood gush out of his corpse, leaned over to give him a farewell kiss, and imbibed the blood he had vomited.
