The etiquette of a necrophiliac: The sequel

A Descent into the Abyss of the Mind In the claustrophobic confines of a blood-soaked bathroom, Dennis—a man whose chiseled physique belies a psyche unraveling at the seams—sits amidst the carnage of his own making. The air is thick with the metallic tang of blood and the stench of decay, a grotesque tableau of violence and obsession. The walls, once pristine, now bear witness to his descent: streaks of crimson, a severed head, and the lifeless body of a woman, staged with chilling precision. Dennis is not a monster. At least, not in his own eyes. Haunted by betrayal and consumed by a warped sense of justice, Dennis rationalizes his actions with the twisted logic of a man who believes himself wronged. His monologue is a feverish soliloquy, a desperate attempt to justify the unjustifiable. He questions the very notion of morality, mocking the idea that he could ever be the villain in his own story. After all, wasn’t he just enforcing the rules? Wasn’t he teaching a lesson in etiquette? The Rules of Engagement Dennis’s world is one where fidelity is absolute, where betrayal demands retribution, and where love is measured in blood and possession. When he discovers his partner’s infidelity, his response is not grief, but a perverse quest for equilibrium. If she could break the rules, why shouldn’t he rewrite them entirely? As he converses with the dead—literally—Dennis blurs the line between vengeance and intimacy. He stages a macabre threesome, a grotesque parody of the relationship he believes was stolen from him. His actions are not born of lust, but of a warped desire for control, for a sense of order in a world that has betrayed him. The bathtub becomes his altar, the severed head his confidant, and the woman’s corpse his final claim.