She descended down the stairs of the house, sidestepping the refuse from bingedrinking teenagers that was strewn everywhere. A struggle of the most terrific kind now ensued. Who is she, I say?” “My sister!” Annabel faltered. "He has not the power—perhaps not the will to do so. “I’ll never be happy again! I hate you! But most of all, what you have made me! A flesh-eating demon cannibal, just like you! I should be dead, dead and lying at the bottom of the sea. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it. ’ ‘On the contrary. Her features are the same, yet the change has written its mark into her face.
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