She smiles thinly, smugly, even as the veil of steely coolness has cracked slightly.

"I can't say that it doesn't feel good to see you suffer," she begins. "Nor can I say that it doesn't please me to see you finally struck with horror at your true self. It's poetic justice."

Yet, she is drawn to his pain and humiliation. Moving closer, she turns him to face her. Placing her hands on either side of his face, she looks into his blood-red eyes determinedly.

"YOU DON'T SCARE ME," she intones, her voice low, yet unabashedly strong.