The first objective was to own.

Yet you can’t have what’s not given.

How to then? He asked to no-one.

Words echoed through the halls of a too big castle.

He tried politeness, riling, scorn, blackmail.

Nothing would do to break her hard shell as she placidly sat.

At last something in him snapped and brute force took over.

Shall you bend her, tin man? The mirror mused Break her? Do you really think you’re man enough for the job?

Her thin, pale neck between his hands.

Easier than waking up.

Better than watching her slip away like shifting sands.

Mine or dead.

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