Disruptive Innovation Essay Example | Topics and Well Written Essays - 4000 words

Disruptive Innovation - Essay Example The new entrants come up with new innovative hard disks that could not be used by the customers because of little raw performance. The innovations that leads to something unique and move out of the traditional market, making it a nontraditional one, despite of various limitations that make it unattractive to the mainstream is termed as Disruptive innovation. In short, present players in the market wins the battle by sustaining innovation but new entrants win the battle by disruptive innovations (Anthony, 2008, p. 4). Straining strategy leads to influence or shape the market in which one competes whereas disruptive strategy â€Å"redefine the market, create a new one and defend against attacks from below† (Anthony, 2008, p. 5). Historically companies have succeeded in using sustained innovations at a market with higher tier by charging the uppermost price from sophisticated and demanding customers. In this way, the company achieves profit. This in turn opens the door for Disrup tive innovations. A disruptive innovation helps the consumers at the bottom of the market to access such products that were previously accessible to only those customers who had lots of money and skill. The characteristics of disruptive innovation include â€Å"lower gross margins, smaller target markets, and simpler products and services† (Disruptive Innovation, n.d.), which may appear not so attractive to the existing solutions when compared with the traditional ones. These innovations offers the market with a lower gross margin making it less attractive for the firms moving upward and making space for the new competitors. Thus having a brief idea about the disruptive innovation as exhibited by Christen, some further elaborations about the model of disruptive innovation is required. This study deals in selecting a sector where any type of disruptive innovations has taken place. Assessing the response of the companies and finding the factors responsible for such response and the correlation with the model developed by Clayton Christensen. The sector which is taken in this paper for analysis is cloud computing technology. But before moving into the detailed explanations, a brief knowledge about cloud computing procedure needs to be discussed in a clear manner and the model developed by Christensen can be explained. 2. Christensen model of disruptive innovation The model of disruptive innovation by Clayton Christensen is basically a hypothesis which can be generally exploited for the purpose of explaining the impact of new technologies on the existence of a firm. The term disruptive innovation was first coined by Clayton Christensen in the year 1997 in his book named, â€Å"The Innovator's Dilemma: When New Technologies Cause Great Firms to Fail".  It has been seen that time and again associated with the failure or displacement of the organizations from their respective industries the organizations â€Å"could see the break coming, merely did nothing until it was excessively late†. Through doing well, the companies are alleged to do and they actually provide to their most profitable customers and highly concentrate on the investments in areas where the profit margins are majorly attractive. This situation generates due to the resourcefulness allocation processes of the constituted

I Don; T Know Essay Example for Free

I Don; T Know Essay Why or why not? All personal and confidential information should be limited to the bare amount of health care professionals. Only to carry out medical treatment (MLAE). 2. In this case, how would you be able to correct your error and provide the missing documents to the patient while still protecting patient confidentiality under HIPAA? You should contact the patient inform them you still have the documents, and ask if they ould like to come to get them (MLAE). 3. Besides a HIPAA Patient Release of Information form, list 4 other items that are found in the medical record. A privacy notice, acknowledgment that the privacy notice was received, a trading partner agreement, and an agreement reached with a healthcare professional business associates (MLAE). 4. Legally, does the patient or the physician/healthcare facility own the medical record? Why? The healthcare facility, but the patient can access them any time as long as the physician feels it will cause no harm to the patient (MLAE). 5. List 3 ways patient confidentiality is maintained in the reception/waiting area of a medical office. Not discussing patient information in the lobby. Making sure computer screens are out of patients sight. Also making sure patients files are not left open (MLAE). 6. A breach of confidentiality can result in what consequences for a health care professional? This could result in possible termination, or possible civil action being taken (MLAE). 7. From the list of Interpersonal Ethics (found in Chapter 1 of the Fremgen text), please describe how any of those traits were demonstrated in your actions in this case scenario? Respect by looking to make sure you could access his information (MLAE). Unit 8 Project Questions: Part II 1. Would the action taken in this second scenario be within your scope of practice for your chosen field? Why or why not? No only physicians should be giving out prescriptions, and they should have never even looked in the file. They should have just taken a message for the doctor (MLAE). 2. What determines your scope of practice for your chosen career? What you study, and what the office you are working in tells you to do (MLAE). 3. Would Respondeat Superior apply in this case scenario? Why or why not? I would not think so, because this person was not acting within their scope of Employment (MLAE). 4. Would the Good Samaritan Law apply in this case scenario? Why or why not? No because this was not any emergency situation (MLAE). 5. What role does the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) play in regards to prescription medication? The FDA is responsible for protecting and promoting public health through the regulation and supervision of food safety, tobacco products, dietary supplements, prescription and ver-the-counter pharmaceutical drugs (medications), vaccines, biopharmaceuticals, blood transfusions, medical devices, electromagnetic radiation emitting devices (ERED), and veterinary products (MLAE). 6. What role does the Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA) play in regards to prescription medication and a physician’s ability to prescribe narcotics? Physicians must have a DEA license to write prescriptions, and i t must be for the state they are practicing in (MLAE). References Bonnie F Fremgen, Ph. D. (2009). MEDICAL LAW AND ETHICS. New Jersey : Pearson Education Inc.

Defining And Analysing Heroism

Defining And Analysing Heroism Heroism consists of actions that must help others, even if it is a possibility and risk of the helper s injury or even death. Some people consider heroism to be very close to altruism, but it is different. Where altruism emphasizes self-denying acts that help others, heroism means a personal sacrifice. The kernel of heroism rotates around of the obligation of the person to a noble goal and readiness to accept a consequence of fighting for this goal. Heroism is old as humanity itself. The human bent fort commemorating heroes is a universal quality of human culture. Heroes are honored in ancient paintings, folklore and myth. Societies dispatched such stories in oral traditions and legends, and myths into epic poems and eddas. Modern societies uphold the tradition of honoring heroes not only in literally masterpieces but also in movies and journalism. Some of heroic ideas are becoming lost or changed by general culture. Being a hero is not just being an outstanding figure. We believe it has become needful to revise the historical senses of the word, and to force it to arrive in modern timeframes. Historically, heroism has been closely connected with military service, although social heroism also deserves close research. For instance, Achilles is the archetypal war hero, whose values were so strong, that Socrates willingness to die for it was also a heroic exploit. Heroism that consist a notable idea is usually not so dramatic like heroism that entails direct physical risk. These different ways of exhorting with the heroic ideal mean a deeper, more tangled definition of heroism. Actions considered as heroic are ordinarily made voluntarily in the sense that they are not compelled by external pressures or at least go out the bounds of the behavior ordinarily prompted by external pressures. By understanding of heroism as a universal characteristic of human nature, not as an unusual feature, heroism becomes something that stands in the line of possibilities for everyon e, possibly inspiring us to answer that call. The thought about the banality of heroism disrobes the myth of the heroic elect . It is a myth that strengthens two fundamental human tendencies: to attribute very rare personal feature to special people who do special feats to see them as superhuman, comparing to the rest of us and the trap of inertial some people call it as the bystander effect . Investigation has shown that this effect is often motivated by scattering of responsibility. In their article The Banality of Heroism , Zeno Franco and Philip Zimbardo tell that heroism is made up of four autonomous measurements at least (based on authors analysis of many acts that they consider heroic). First, heroism involves some type of quest, which may range from the preservation of life to the preservation of an ideal (Franco, Zimbardo). Second, heroism should have some form of sacrifice (risk). This can be some form of physical danger or a strong social sacrifice. The physical risks in this case are clearly heroic in nature. For instance, Tom Cahill, a researcher from the University of California, called a press conference where defined the EPA s findings that in the after-grass of the September 11 events the air nearby Ground Zero was safe for breathing. With this action he risked his confidence as a scientist. Third, the heroic feat may be active or passive. Often we think of heroism as a courageous activity, something that is clearly perceptible. But some forms of heroism involve passive opposition or reluctance to be moved. And finally, heroism may be an unexpected, one time action, or something that continues over a longer time period. This may have a meaning that heroism may be a nearly immediate reaction to a situation. Or it may be a well considered series of actions endure over days, months, or a lifetime. Franco and Zimbardo give such an example: in 1940, a Japanese consul official in Lithuania, Chiune Sugihara, signed more than 2,000 visas for Jews hoping to escape the Nazi invasion, despite his government s direct orders not to do so. Every morning when Sugihara got up and made the same decision to help, every time he signed a visa, he acted heroically and increased the likelihood of dire consequences for himself and his family. At the end of the war he was unceremoniously fired from the Japanese civil service (Franco and Zimbardo). The scientists stress that even people who have led less than remarkable lives can be heroic in a sing le moment. For instance, during Hurricane Katrina, a man whose name is Jabar Gibson, who was previously arrested in the past, took a bus, freighted it with citizens of his poor New Orleans environs, and delivered them to safety Houston. This feat people of Louisiana considered as heroism, because is that concrete situation Jabar helped desperate people simply to survive. The really interesting investigation which called The heroism of women and men was done by Selwyn W. Becker (University of Chicago) and Alice H. Eagly (Northwestern University). They research heroism of both sexes in dangerous settings. Their study allows examining the ideas that heroism is performed by women as well as men. It is well-known that mostly men were portrayed as heroes in legends, poems and eddas. It is understandable, because of their strength, greater size and physical skills. It is also well-known that since pristine times men considered to be hunters. But we should not forget that women in their tur n always considered to be clever, somewhat cunning and undoubtedly, very skilful. The women may find the right decision more often because of their well-known sixth sense, so it is quite probably that they may take a risk with the same responsibility as men. Moreover, the women more often trust their feelings and inner senses, their intuition and sometimes it helps in those situations when it needs to sacrifice. Then, who says that women are more afraid of sacrificing? There are a lot of examples in the world literature when they made such really brave decisions showing in such a way their true feelings. Becker and Eagly write: Women s risk taking is assumed to derive at least in part from their traditional family role as main nurturer (Becker and Eagly). The authors are sure that nonetheless, it is possible that women s psychological answers to stress prime their helpful acts. Besides, many of women s heroic actions are hidden. But we forgot about another important question: What m akes a hero? Franco and Zimbardo convinced that actually, the first answer of many people who are called heroes is to disown their originality. They say: I just did what I had to do or I am not a hero! Anyone in the same position would have done what I did (Franco and Zimbardo). Sudden life and death situations are distinct examples of situations that excite people into heroic act. The investigators were convinced that these positions create a bright-line ethical inspection that drives some individuals to act in an attempt to stop the evil. Many people in common positions identify the ethical problems connected with the situation and are deeply upset, but decide to ignore it. Franco and Zimbardo believe that a significant factor that may cheer heroic act is the incentive of heroic kind of imagination. It is the capacity to imagine facing risky situations, to fight the hypothetical problems these situations cause, and to consider one s actions and the results. By this, the individual becomes more prepared to act if a moment that calls for heroism comes. Seeing oneself capable of heroism may be the first step towards a heroic consequence. There are several steps we can take to nurture the heroic type of imagination. We can start by remaining aware; critically evaluating each situation we meet so that we do not gloss over an emergency demanding our action. We must withstand the impulse to improve inaction and to develop exculpations that recast evil acts. Also we must try to exceed anticipating negative result connected with some forms of heroism, being socially ostracized as an example. We must trust that others will identify the value of our heroic feats. We should try to develop a capacity of things that do not fit, or do not make sense in a current situation. This means that we must ask questions to get the proper information for us to take action. Besides, it is important not to fear conflict, and to develop the personal courage necessary to stand firm for p rinciples we value. Actually, we should not think of hard conflicts but rather as attempts to force the other people to support their own ideology and principles. We should be engaged in the current position, to imagine alternative future scenarios. But outside of these fundamental points, our society needs to encourage heroic imagination in all of its citizens, especially in young ones. The ancient Greeks and Anglo Saxon tribes revered their poem heroes in Beowulf and Iliad . These stories are antiquated, but their descriptions of the hero still make sense. In these tales, the protagonist often meets a mystical figure who attempts to tempt the hero away from his track. We must also avoid the temptation of evil in our life, and we must recognize that perhaps the temptation will be quite ordinary: for example, an unethical friend, neighbor or coworker. By passing a series of smaller examinations of our stamina, we can refine a personal habit of heroism. Very often epic poems tell about the hero visiting the underworld. This metaphorical facing death depicts transcendence an acceptance of mortality. Arthur Margon in his work Urbanization in fiction. Changing models of heroism in popular American novels 1880-1920 writes that in a w ide line of popular literature works written between the end of Reconstruction and The First World War, prominent American novelists depicted the decline of usual heroism in an urbanized society. In an urban society, goodness and social responsibility could be guaranteed only through the institutions peculiarity of that society. Individualism did not lead to heroism in the materialistic cities. Urban writers dismissed the individualistic hero to either boundary of the junk heap. Some of the authors replaced him with an institutional structure which nurtured self-identification in the community. But American novelists increasingly reflected, through the demise of the hero, the understanding that in the urban age individualism was incompatible with public welfare (Margon) underlines Margon. Till this day, some types of heroism demand paying the final price. But we can also realize this as a hero s desire to face any of the results of heroic action whether the sacrifices are social of physical. The hero often follows a set of rules. It is obviously, that if we will stop imagining ourselves as real heroes, and to realize the real sense of heroism, our society will be more indignant. But if we can rejoin these ancient ideals, refresh them again; we can create a union with the hero in our souls. It is this urgent, internal connection between the modern world and the ancient world that can show to a simple person how to become an everyday hero. As about my opinion. It seems to me, that we often afraid to make such actions, because we live in a world where everyone cares about himself. But if each of us will make one good feat everyday, our life may change completely. Now to my mind comes a movie that is called Pay it forward where the teacher gave pupils the task to think h ow to change this world. The slogan was Think of an idea how to change this world and put it into action! . And one boy named Trevor found the way: each person should make three good actions and then those people whom he helped must do the same in their turn. Well, is not is a heroism I would like to ask? In such a special and very remarkable way this boy forced us to believe in goodness. Exactly such kind of actions may teach everyone to become a hero. We just have to learn how to be more patient, kinder, thankful, attentively, and more helpful but what is most important to help others not by words but by real actions. I think everyone must watch this film and think about his actions and thoughts. It would be great if we will find a possibility and place for good feats in our life. And it does not matter what it will be saving a cat from the transport movement or helping our friend with his tasks. All these details draw one colorful portrait of the modern hero! Work citied Becker W, Selwyn, Eagly H, Alice The Heroizm of Women and Men . Zero, Franco, Zimbardo, Philip The Banality of Heroism . Greater Good Megazine. 2006-2007. Margon, Artur Changing models of heroism in popular American novels 1880-1920 .

Womens Position in Society in Virginia Woolfs A Room of Ones Own Ess

Women's Position in Society in Virginia Woolf's A Room of One's Own The passage at the end of the Third Chapter in A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf deals with two major themes of this essay. The first being the ways in which women were kept down and made inferior to men, and the second being how this affected women’s writing. Woolf asserts that women were made inferior as a direct result of men’s perceived superiority. This assertment provides a new way of thinking about women’s lower position in society and the subsequent low opinion men held of women and their capabilties as writers. Woolf firmly believes that it is the prerogative of all writers to pay great heed to what is thought of them and to suffer when that opinion is negative. Because the opinion of women’s writing was negative, women could not write freely. Their minds, Woolf believes, were clouded with agendas. They had something to prove or a grudge to vindicate. This is not the ideal situation for writing, or the proper environment for gen ius. Therefore, through her revolutionary way of examining women’s position in society, Woolf proves that the â€Å"masculine complex† and low expectations of women impeded upon their writing process. One major theme this essay illuminates is that of what subordinated women and how that inferiority was maintained. Woolf states, â€Å"Even in the nineteenth century a woman was not encouraged to be an artist† (55). In fact she was discouraged and made to believe such a vocation was beyond her capabilities. Here Woolf turns the issue around showing that women did not consciously choose not to become writers, but were prodded not to write by men. Woolf speculates about the affects of this discouragement saying... ...ganized the traditional way of examining women’s position in society and it’s affect on their art. Her concept of the â€Å"masculine complex† approaches gender relations from a totally different angle. It is male superiority not female inferiority, which perpetuates this system. Men’s dominance is strong and their resistance to the women’s movement was so effective that even strong willed women were humbled. Women were further hindered by the prevailing male sentiment that they were incompetent writers. This naturally fired women’s incentive to prove their capabilities, because all artists are concerned about what others think of them. Yet, this very situation inhibits creativity and continued to prevent women from reaching their full potential. This new line of thinking explains and reexamines the forces that held women down and separated them from their genius.

Computers: Productive Tools In Our Lives :: essays research papers

Computers: Productive Tools In Our Lives Have you ever seen a computer in a store and said, "Whoa! What a chick!"? I am sure you would have, if you were familiar with the new 16xCD-ROM and extra wide SCSI-2 9.0 GB hard drive it features, or if you knew about the dual 225 MHz Pentium pro MMX chips blazing up its performance. To tell you all about computers, it takes a total computer nut like me. After working with computers almost all my life, I can tell you that a computer is an electrical device, without which a guy like me probably cannot survive. If you have no idea of what I am beeping about, read on. Experts, I report no error in reading further. Computers are very productive tools in our everyday lives. To maximize the utility of a computer, what you need to do is get going with the program. To do that, the minimum system requirements are a C.P.U. or the central processing unit, a keyboard, a monitor, a mouse, and if you want, a printer and a CD - ROM drive. The C.P.U. is that part of a computer that faithfully does what his master tells him to do, with the help of input devices like a keyboard or a mouse. After all this so called sophisticated, next generation equipment, you need some sort of software. Software is a set of instructions to the C.P.U. from a source such as a floppy disk, a hard drive or a CD - ROM drive, in zillions of 1's and 0's. Each of these tiny little instructions makes up a bit. Then they assemble to form a byte. Bytes make up a program, which you run to use the computer's various applications. Now that you know more about computers than Einstein did, let me tell you something more about them, so that you will beat the President in the field of computing. In your computer, you require a good amount of RAM, which is there to randomly accesses memory. That is required to speed up your computer, so that it gives you more error messages in less time. The faster the error messages it gives, the faster you call technical help at 1-800-NeedHelp. The service is open 24 hours a day, but to get through, you will have to wait, at least, until the next Halley's comet passes by. The only thing now required, for you to become the master of this part of the world, is to have a very BOLD determination to become a computer geek.

Benefits of Art Education

Steps to Art Early Childhood Arts Education Initiative Fact Sheet About the Benefits of Arts Education for Children Benefits of Arts Education Source: Americans for the Arts, 2002 * Stimulates and develops the imagination and critical thinking, and refines cognitive and creative skills. * Has a tremendous impact on the developmental growth of every child and has proven to help level the â€Å"learning field† across socio-economic boundaries. * Strengthens problem-solving and critical-thinking skills, adding to overall academic achievement and school success. Develops a sense of craftsmanship, quality task performance, and goal-setting—skills needed to succeed in the classroom and beyond. * Teaches children life skills such as developing an informed perception; articulating a vision; learning to solve problems and make decisions; building self-confidence and self-discipline; developing the ability to imagine what might be; and accepting responsibility to complete tasks f rom start to finish. * Nurtures important values, including team-building skills; respecting alternative viewpoints; and appreciating and being aware of different cultures and traditions.Source:  Young Children and the Arts: Making Creative Connections, 1998, Introduction * Plays a central role in cognitive, motor, language, and social-emotional development. * Motivates and engages children in learning, stimulates memory, facilitates understanding, enhances symbolic communication, promotes relationships, and provides an avenue for building competence. * Provides a natural source of learning. Child development specialists note that play is the business of young children; play is the way children promote and enhance their development.The arts are a most natural vehicle for play. The Need in Preschools Source: Americans for the Arts, 2002 * Preschool care and education, except for certain low-income programs, is considered a private service and receives little or no federal funding. * While the importance of early childhood arts education has received greater attention in recent years, the majority of funding and programming is directed to grades K–12, with preschools being largely underserved. * Arts education should not be considered a frill, but a necessity.Since preschools are not part of the public school system, funding sources vary greatly. When budgets are tight, arts programs, teachers, and supplies are often cut first. * More than four million children attend preschool programs nationwide. Source: Arts Education Partnership,  Children’s Learning & the Arts: Birth to Age Eight * Preschool-age children are primed for learning and greatly accepting of most art forms. * Compelling evidence exists that early arts experience has an impact on all aspects of a child’s learning and development and that, in many ways, â€Å"earlier is better. * Early childhood thus presents both a unique opportunity and a unique challenge; a part of that challenge is to engage and support all who care for and educate young children in making the arts an integrated and vital part of their earliest experiences. * We know that â€Å"art,† understood as spontaneous creative play, is what young children naturally do—singing, dancing, drawing, and role-playing. We also know that the arts engage all the senses and involve a variety of modalities including the kinesthetic, auditory, and visual.When caregivers engage and encourage children in arts activities on a regular basis from early in life, they are laying the foundation for—and even helping wire children's brains for—successful learning. Adults Agree on Importance of Arts Education Source: Americans for the Arts national public opinion survey, January 2001 * Ninety-one percent of respondents believe the arts are vital to a well-rounded education. * Ninety-five percent of respondents believe the arts teach intangibles such as creativity, self-expression, an d individualism. Seventy-six percent of respondents somewhat or strongly agree that arts education is important enough to get personally involved. However, just thirty-five percent of those who are closely involved in the life of a child have done so. * Sixty-seven percent say they do not know how to get involved. * Eighty-nine percent of respondents believe that arts education is important enough that schools should find the money to ensure inclusion in the curriculum. * Ninety-six percent agree the arts belong to everyone, not just the fortunate or privileged.The Social and Academic Impact of Arts Education Source: Eisner, E. W. ,  Ten Lessons the Arts Teach, (January 1998) * Art is defined as something aesthetic to the senses. A â€Å"work of art† is both an activity and a result; it is a noun and a verb. â€Å"One of the great aims of education is to make it possible for people to be engaged in the process of creating themselves. Artists and scientists are alike in thi s respect. † * Arts curricula is typically process-driven and relationship based, so its impact on academic performance is often underestimated and undervalued.The arts provide a logical counterbalance to the trend of standardized testing and should not be marginalized just because the curriculum is more difficult to measure. * The emphasis and time given to a particular school subject sends a message to students about how important that subject is in life. * Arts programs, especially those including trained professionals, can help draw students out of â€Å"formal† ways of approaching relationships, outcomes, and perceptions. The arts can play a crucial role in improving students’ abilities to learn, because they draw on a range of intelligences and learning styles, not just the linguistic and logical-mathematical intelligences upon which most schools are based. (Eloquent Evidence: Arts at the Core of Learning,  President’s Committee on the Arts and Hum anities, talking about Howard Gardener’s  Theory of Multiple Intelligences, 1995) The Physical and Sensory Impact of Arts Education A student making music experiences the â€Å"simultaneous engagement of senses, muscles, and intellect.Brain scans taken during musical performances show that virtually the entire cerebral cortex is active while musicians are playing. † (Learning and the Arts: Crossing Boundaries, 2000, p. 14) â€Å"Dramatic play, rhyming games, and songs are some of the language-rich activities that build pre-reading skills. † (Young Children and the Arts: Making Creative Connection, 1998, p. 1) â€Å"Preschoolers who were given music keyboard lessons improved their spatial-temporal reasoning†¦used for understanding relationships between objects such as calculating a proportion or playing chess. † (Education Leadership, November, 1998, p. 8) â€Å"Creative activity is also a source of joy and wonder, while it bids its students to tou ch, taste, hear, and see the world. Children are powerfully affected by storytelling, music, dance, and the visual arts. They often construct their understanding of the world around musical games, imaginative dramas and drawing. † (Hamblen, Karen A. ,  Theories and Research That Support Art Instruction for Instrumental Outcomes, 1993) â€Å"Regular, frequent instruction in drama and sign language created higher scores in language development for Head Start students than for a control group. (Young Children and the Arts: Making Creative Connections,  1998, p. 1) â€Å"Listening to music for just an hour a day changes brain organization†¦EEG results showed greater brain coherence and more time spent in the alpha state. † (Malyarenko, et al. , 1996) Art Experiences that Promote Preschool Learning Source:  Young Children and the Arts: Making Creative Connections, 1998, pp. 11–12 * Dance helps build motor control, body relationships, and a sense of directi on. Drawing, sculpting, and other visual arts develop spatial acuity. * Group activities, such as learning dance steps or singing songs, build social skills. * As children describe people and things in their world using pictures, body movements, and mime, they enhance their descriptive, nonverbal, cognitive capabilities. * Repeating stories, poems, and songs strengthens memory. * The art supplies children choose for their work reflects their approach to process and outcomes.

Bloodlines Chapter Twenty-Five

I HAD MOCKED KEITH when we first came to Palm Springs, teasing him for freezing up around Moroi. But as I stood there now, face-to-face with the stuff of nightmares, I knew exactly how he felt. I had no right to judge anyone for losing all rational thought when confronted with their greatest fears. That being said, if Keith was here, I think he would've understood why Moroi weren't as big a deal to me anymore. Because when compared to Strigoi? Well, suddenly the little differences between humans and Moroi became negligible. Only one difference mattered, the difference between the living and the dead. It was the line that divided us, the line that Adrian and I firmly stood together on one side of – facing those who stood on the other. I had seen Strigoi before. Back then, I hadn't been immediately threatened by them. Plus, I'd had Rose and Dimitri on hand, ready to protect me. Now? There was no one here to save us. Just ourselves. There were only two of them, but it might as well have been two hundred. Strigoi operated at such a different level than the rest of us that it didn't take very many of them to tip the odds. They were both women, and they looked as though they'd been in their twenties when they became Strigoi. How long ago that was, I couldn't guess. Lee had zealously gone on and on about how being Strigoi meant you were â€Å"forever young.† Yet in looking at these two monsters, I didn't really think of them that way. Sure, they had the superficial appearance of youth, but it was marred with evil and decay. Their skin might be wrinkle free, but it was a sickly white, far whiter than any Moroi. The red-ringed eyes that leered out at us didn't sparkle with life and energy, but rather an unholy sort of reanimation. These people weren't right. They weren't natural. â€Å"Charming,† said one, her blond hair in a pixie cut. Her facial structure made me think she'd been a dhampir or human before being turned. She was eyeing us the same way I'd often seen my family's cat watch birds. â€Å"And exactly as described.† â€Å"They're soooo pretty,† crooned the other, a lascivious smile on her face. Her height said she had once been Moroi. â€Å"I don't know which one I want first.† The blonde gave a warning look. â€Å"We'll share.† â€Å"Like last time,† agreed the other, tossing a mane of curly black hair over one shoulder. â€Å"No,† said the first. â€Å"Last time you made both kills. That wasn't sharing.† â€Å"But I let you feed from both afterward.† Before she could counter back, Lee suddenly recovered himself and staggered forward to the blond Strigoi. â€Å"Wait, wait. Dawn. You promised me. You promised you'd awaken me first before you do anything.† The two Strigoi turned their attention to Lee. I was still frozen, still unable to move or really react while being so close to these creatures of hell. But somehow, through the thick and overwhelming terror surrounding me, I still managed to feel small and unexpected pity for Lee. There was a little hate there too, of course, considering the situation. But mostly I felt terribly sorry for someone who truly believed his life was meaningless unless he sacrificed his soul for hollow immortality. Not only that, I felt sorry for him for actually thinking he could trust these creatures to give him what he wanted. Because as I studied them, it was perfectly clear to me that they were deciding whether or not to make this a three-course meal. Lee, I suspected, was the only one who didn't realize this. â€Å"Please,† he said. â€Å"You promised. Save me. Restore me to how I was.† I also couldn't help but notice the small red patch on his face where I'd hit him. I allowed myself to feel a bit of pride over that but wasn't cocky enough to think I possessed any noteworthy fighting skills to battle my way out of this situation. The Strigoi were too close, and our exits were too few. â€Å"I know where more are,† he added, beginning to look uneasy that his â€Å"saviors† weren't immediately jumping in to make his dreams come true. â€Å"One's young – a dhampir.† â€Å"I haven't had a dhampir in a while,† said the curly-haired Strigoi, almost wistfully. Dawn sighed. â€Å"I don't really care, Jacqueline. If you want to awaken him, go for it. I just want these two. He doesn't matter to me.† â€Å"I get the dhampir all to myself, then,† warned Jacqueline. â€Å"Fine, fine,† said Dawn. â€Å"Just hurry up.† Lee turned so radiant, so happy†¦ it was sickening. â€Å"Thank you,† he said. â€Å"Thank you so much! I've been waiting so long for this that I can't believe it's – ahh!† Jacqueline moved so quickly that I hardly saw it happen at all. One moment she was standing in the doorway, the next she had Lee pinned against the recliner. Lee gave out a semi-muffled scream as she bit into his neck, a scream that soon quieted. Dawn shut the door and nudged us forward. I flinched at her touch. â€Å"Well,† she said with amusement. â€Å"Let's get a good view.† Neither Adrian nor I responded. We simply moved into the living room. I dared a glance at him but could discern little. He was so good at hiding his true feelings in general that I supposed I shouldn't be surprised he could mask abject terror just as easily. He offered me no encouragement with either his expression or words, which I actually found kind of refreshing. Because really, I didn't see any good end to this situation. Up close, forced to watch Jacqueline's attack, I could now see the blissful expression that had settled over Lee's face. It was the most awful thing I'd ever witnessed. I wanted to squeeze my eyes shut or turn away, but some force beyond me kept me staring at the grisly spectacle. I'd never seen any vampire feed, Moroi or Strigoi, but I now understood why feeders like Dorothy could so willingly sign up for their lifestyles. Endorphins were being released into Lee's bloodstream, endorphins so strong that they blinded him to the fact that he was having his life drained away. He instead existed in a joyous state, lost in a chemical high. Or maybe he was just thinking about how happy he'd be once he was a Strigoi again, if it was possible to have any sort of conscious thought under these circumstances. I lost track of how long it took to drain Lee. Each moment was agonizing for me, as though I was taking the pain Lee should have been feeling. The process seemed to last forever, and yet there was also a weird sense of speed to it. It felt wrong that someone's body could be drained in so short a time. Jacqueline drank steadily, pausing only once to remark, â€Å"His blood's not as good as I expected.† â€Å"Then stop,† suggested Dawn, who was starting to look bored. â€Å"Just let him die and have these two with me.† Jacqueline looked as though she was actually considering it, again reminding me what a fool Lee had been to put his trust in these two. After a few minutes, she shrugged. â€Å"I'm almost done. And I really want him to get me that dhampir.† Jacqueline resumed drinking, but as she'd said, it didn't take much longer. By this point, Lee was nearly as pale as the Strigoi, and there was a strange, stretched quality to his skin. He was perfectly still now. His face seemed frozen in a grin that was nearly as much shock as it was joy. Jacqueline lifted her face and wiped off her mouth, surveying her victim with pleasure. She then pushed up her shirtsleeve and rested her nails on his wrist. Before she could tear her own flesh, however, she caught sight of something. â€Å"Ah, much neater.† She stepped away and leaned down, retrieving Lee's knife. It had slid under the love seat in our altercation. Jacqueline took it and effortlessly slashed her wrist, causing deep red blood to well out. Part of my brain didn't think their blood should look so similar to mine. It should be black. Or acidic. She placed her bleeding wrist against Lee's mouth and tipped Lee's head back so that gravity could help the blood flow. Every horror I'd witnessed tonight had been worse than the last. Death was terrible – but it was also part of nature. This? This was no part of nature's plan. I was about to witness the world's greatest sin, the corruption of the soul through black magic to reanimate the dead. It made me feel dirty all over, and I wished I could run away. I didn't want to see this. I didn't want to see the guy I'd once regarded as something like a friend suddenly rise up as some perversion of nature. A touch to my hand made me jump. It was Adrian. His eyes were on Lee and Jacqueline, but his hand had caught hold of mine and squeezed it, even though he was still cuffed. I was surprised at the warmth of his skin. Even though I knew Moroi were as living and warm-blooded as me, my irrational fears always expected them to be cold. Equally surprising was the sudden comfort and connection in that touch. It wasn't the kind of touch that said, Hey, I've got a plan, so hang in there because we're going to get out of this. It was more like the kind of touch that simply said, You aren't alone. It was really the only thing he could offer. And in that moment, it was enough. Then, something strange happened. Or rather, didn't happen. Jacqueline's blood was pouring steadily into Lee's mouth, and while we didn't have many documented cases of Strigoi conversions, I knew the basics. The victim's blood was drained, and then the killing Strigoi fed his or her blood back into the deceased. I didn't know exactly how long it took to work – it certainly didn't require all of the Strigoi's blood – but at some point, Lee should be stirring and getting up as one of the walking dead. Jacqueline's cool, smug expression began to change to curiosity and then became outright confusion. She glanced questioningly at Dawn. â€Å"What's taking so long?† Dawn asked. â€Å"I don't know,† Jacqueline said, turning back to Lee. With her free hand, she nudged Lee's shoulder as though that might serve as a wake-up call. Nothing happened. â€Å"Haven't you done this before?† asked Dawn. â€Å"Of course,† snapped Jacqueline. â€Å"It didn't take nearly this long. He should be up and moving around. Something's wrong.† I remembered Lee's words, describing how all his desperate attempts at taking innocent lives hadn't converted him back. I only knew a little about spirit – and even less about it restoring Strigoi – but something told me there was no force on earth that would ever turn Lee Strigoi again. Another long minute passed as we watched and waited. At last, disgusted, Jacqueline backed away from the recliner and rolled up her sleeve. She glared at Lee's motionless body. â€Å"Something's wrong,† she repeated. â€Å"And I don't want to waste any more blood figuring out what it is. Besides, my cut's already healing.† I wanted nothing more than for Dawn and Jacqueline to forget I existed, but the next words slipped out of my mouth before I could stop them. The scientist in me was too caught up in a revelation. â€Å"He was restored – and it affected him permanently. The spirit magic left some kind of mark, and now he can't be turned again.† Both Strigoi looked at me. I cringed under those red eyes. â€Å"I never believed any of those spirit stories,† said Dawn. Jacqueline, however, was still clearly puzzled by her failure. â€Å"There was something wrong with him, though. I can't explain it†¦ but the whole time, he didn't feel right. Didn't taste right.† â€Å"Forget him,† said Dawn. â€Å"He had his chance. He got what he wanted, and now I'm moving on.† I saw my death in her eyes and tried to reach for my cross. â€Å"God protect me,† I said, just as she lunged forward. Against all odds, Adrian was there to stop her – or, well, try to stop her. Mostly, he just got in her way. He didn't have the speed or reaction time to effectively block her and was especially clumsy with his cuffed hands. I think he'd just seen what I had, that she was going to attack, and had preemptively moved in front of me in some noble but ill-fated attempt at protection. And ill-fated it was. With one smooth motion, she shoved him aside in a way that looked effortless but knocked him halfway across the room. My breath caught. He hit the floor, and I started to scream. Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain against my throat. Without a pause, Dawn had promptly grabbed me and nearly lifted me off my feet to get access to my neck. I mustered another frantic prayer as that pain spread, but within seconds, both prayer and pain disappeared from my brain. They were replaced by a sweet, sweet feeling of contentment and bliss and wonder. I had no thoughts, except that I was suddenly existing in the happiest, most exquisite state imaginable. I wanted more. More, more, more. I wanted to drown in it, to forget myself, to forget everything around me – â€Å"Ugh,† I cried out as I suddenly and unexpectedly hit the floor. Still in that blissful haze, I felt no pain – yet. Just as quickly as she'd grabbed me, Dawn had dropped and pushed me away. Instinctively, I reached out an arm to break my fall but failed. I was too weak and disoriented and sprawled ungracefully on the carpet. Dawn's fingers were touching her lips, a look of outrage twisting her already-horrific features. â€Å"What,† she demanded, â€Å"was that?† My brain wasn't working properly yet. I'd only had a brief taste of endorphin, but it was still enough to leave me addled. I had no answer for her. â€Å"What's wrong?† exclaimed Jacqueline, striding forward. She looked from me to Dawn in confusion. Dawn scowled and then spit onto the floor. It was red from my blood. Disgusting. â€Å"Her blood†¦ it was terrible. Inedible. Foul.† She spit again. Jacqueline's eyes widened. â€Å"Just like the other one. See? I told you.† â€Å"No.† Dawn shook her head. â€Å"There's no way it could be the same. You would never have been able to drink that much of her.† She spit again. â€Å"It didn't just taste weird or bad†¦ it was like it's tainted.† Seeing Jacqueline's skeptical look, Dawn punched her on the arm. â€Å"Don't believe me? Try her yourself.† Jacqueline took a step toward me, hesitant. Then Dawn spit again, and I think that somehow convinced the other Strigoi that she wanted no part of me. â€Å"I don't want another mediocre meal. Damn it. This is becoming absurd.† Jacqueline glanced at Adrian, who was standing perfectly still. â€Å"At least we've still got him.† â€Å"If he's not ruined too,† Dawn muttered. My senses were coming back to me, and for half a second, I wondered if there was some insane way we might survive this. Maybe the Strigoi would write us off as bad meals. But no. Even as I allowed myself to hope that, I also knew that even if they didn't feed off of us, we weren't going to leave here alive. They had no reason to simply walk off. They'd kill us for sport before they left. With that same remarkable speed, Jacqueline sprang toward Adrian. â€Å"Time to find out.† I screamed as Jacqueline pinned Adrian against the wall and bit his neck. She only did so for a few seconds, just to get a taste. Jacqueline lifted her head up, pausing and savoring the blood. A slow smile spread over her face, showing her bloody fangs. â€Å"This one's good. Very good. Makes up for the other.† She trailed her fingers down his cheek. â€Å"Such a shame, though. He's so cute.† Dawn stalked toward them. â€Å"Let me try before you take it all!† Jacqueline ignored her and was leaning back toward Adrian, who had gone all glassy-eyed. Meanwhile, I was free enough of the endorphins that I was thinking clearly again. No one was paying attention to me. I tried to stand and felt the world sway. Staying low, I managed to crawl toward my purse, lying forgotten near the living room's edge. Jacqueline had drunk from Adrian again, but only briefly before Dawn pulled her away and demanded a turn so that she could wash the taste of my blood out of her mouth. Startling myself with how fast I moved, I rustled through my cavernous purse, looking desperately for anything that might help. Some cold, logical part of me said there was no way we could get out of this, but there was also no way I could just sit there and watch them drain Adrian. I had to fight. I had to try to save him, just as he'd tried for me. It didn't matter if the effort failed or if I died. Somehow, I had to try. Some Alchemists carried guns, but not me. My purse was huge, full of more stuff than I really needed, but nothing in the contents resembled a weapon. Even if it did, most weapons were futile against Strigoi. A gun would slow them down but not kill them. Only silver stakes, decapitation, and fire could kill a Strigoi. Fire†¦ My hand closed around the amulet I'd made for Ms. Terwilliger. I'd shoved it in my purse when she gave it to me, unsure what I should do with it. I could only assume blood loss and scattered thoughts made me draw it out now and consider the possibility of using it. Even the idea was ridiculous. You couldn't use something that didn't work! It was a trinket, a worthless bag of rocks and leaves. There was no magic here, and I was a fool to even think along those lines. And yet, it was a bag of rocks. Not a heavy one, but surely enough to get someone's attention if it hit her in the head. It was the best I had. The only thing I had to slow Adrian's death. Drawing back my arm, I aimed at Dawn and threw, reciting the foolish incantation like a battle cry: â€Å"Into flame, into flame!† It was a good shot. Miss Carson would have been proud. But I had no chance to admire my athletic skills because I was too distracted by the fact that Dawn had caught on fire. My jaw dropped as I stared at the impossible. It wasn't a huge fire. It wasn't like her entire body was engulfed in flames. But where the amulet had struck her, a small blaze ignited, spreading rapidly through her hair. She screamed and began frantically patting her head. Strigoi feared fire, and for a moment, Jacqueline recoiled. Then, with grim determination, she released Adrian and grabbed a throw blanket. She wrapped it around Dawn's head, smothering the flames. â€Å"What the hell?† Dawn demanded when she emerged. She immediately began charging toward me in her anger. I knew then the only thing I'd accomplished was to speed up my own death. Dawn grabbed ahold of me and slammed my head against the wall. My world reeled, and I felt nauseous. She reached for me again but froze when the door suddenly burst open. Eddie appeared in the doorway, a silver stake in his hand. What was truly amazing about what followed was the speed. There was no pausing, no long moments to assess the situation, and no snarky banter between combatants. Eddie simply charged in and went for Jacqueline. Jacqueline responded with equal quickness, rushing forward to meet her one worthy foe here. After she'd released him, Adrian had slumped to the floor, still in the throes of the Strigoi endorphins. Keeping low to the ground, I scurried over to his side and helped drag him back to the â€Å"safety† of the far side of the living room while Eddie clashed with the Strigoi. I spared them only a moment's glance, just enough to take in the deadly dancelike nature of their maneuvering. Both Strigoi were trying to get a grip on Eddie, probably in the hopes of breaking his neck, but were careful to stay away from the bite of his silver stake. I looked down at Adrian, who was dangerously pale and whose pupils had reduced to the size of pinpoints. I had only a sketchy impression of how much Jacqueline had drunk from him and didn't know if Adrian's state was more from blood loss or endorphins. â€Å"I'm fine, Sage,† he muttered, blinking as though the light hurt. â€Å"Quite the high, though. Makes the stuff I've used seem pretty soft-core.† He blinked, as though fighting to wake up. His pupils dilated to a more normal size and then seemed to focus on me. â€Å"Good God. Are you okay?† â€Å"I will be,† I said, starting to stand. Yet even as I spoke, a wave of dizziness hit me, and I swayed. Adrian did his best to support me, though it was pretty awkward with his bound hands. We leaned against each other, and I almost laughed at how ridiculous the situation was, both of us trying to help the other when neither of us was in any condition to do it. Then something caught my eye that chased all other thoughts away. â€Å"Jill,† I whispered. Adrian immediately followed my gaze to where Jill had just appeared in the living room's entry. I wasn't surprised to see her. The only way Eddie could be here was if Jill had told him what was happening to Adrian through the spirit bond. Standing there, with her eyes flashing, she looked like some fierce, battle-ready goddess as she watched Eddie spar with the Strigoi. It was both inspiring and frightening. Adrian shared my thoughts. â€Å"No, no, Jailbait,† he murmured. â€Å"Do not do anything stupid. Castile needs to handle this.† â€Å"She knows how to fight,† I said. Adrian frowned. â€Å"But she doesn't have a weapon. Without one, she's just a featherweight in this.† He was right, of course. And while I certainly didn't want Jill endangering her life, I couldn't help but think if she were properly equipped, she might be able to do something. At the very least, a distraction might be a benefit. Eddie was holding his ground all right against the two Strigoi, but he wasn't making any progress against them either. He could use help. And we needed to make sure Jill didn't rush into this with only her wits to defend her. Inspiration hit me, and I managed to stay on my feet. The world was spinning even more than before, but – despite Adrian's protests – I managed to stagger to the kitchen. I just barely was able to get to the sink and flip the faucet on before my legs gave out underneath me. I caught hold of the counter's edge, using it to keep me upright. â€Å"Jill!† I yelled. She turned toward my shout, saw the running water, and instantly knew what to do. She lifted her hand. The stream coming from the faucet suddenly shifted, shooting out of the sink and across the living room. It went to Jill, who collected a large amount of it between her hands and magically forced the water into a long cylindrical shape. It held itself in the air like that, a rippling but seemingly solid club of water. Gripping it, she hurried toward the fight and swung her weapon of water into Jacqueline's back. Drops flew off of the â€Å"club,† but it held on to its rigidity enough for her to get a second hit in before completely exploding into a spray of water. Jacqueline spun around, her hand swinging out to strike Jill. Jill had expected as much and dropped to the floor, dodging in exactly the way I'd seen Eddie teach her. She scurried backward, out of Jacqueline's way, and the Strigoi pursued – giving Eddie an exposed shot on her back. Eddie took the opportunity, evading Dawn, and plunged his stake into Jacqueline's back. I'd never given it much thought before, but if shoved hard enough, a stake could pierce someone's heart just as easily from the back as the chest. Jacqueline went rigid, and Eddie jerked his stake out, just managing to avoid the full force of a strike from Dawn. She still caught him a little, and he stumbled briefly before quickly regaining his footing and setting his sights on her. Jill was forgotten and hurried over to us in the kitchen. â€Å"Are you okay?† she exclaimed, peering at both of us. That fierce look was gone. She was now just an ordinary girl concerned for her friends. â€Å"Oh my God. I was so worried about you both. The emotions were so strong. I couldn't get a fix on what was happening, just that something was horribly wrong.† I dragged my gaze to Eddie, who was dancing around with Dawn. â€Å"We have to help him – â€Å" I took two steps away from the counter and started to fall. Both Jill and Adrian reached out to catch me. â€Å"Jesus, Sage,† he exclaimed. â€Å"You're in bad shape.† â€Å"Not as bad as you,† I protested, still worried about helping Eddie. â€Å"They drank more from you – â€Å" â€Å"Yeah, but I don't have a bleeding arm wound,† he pointed out. â€Å"Or a possible concussion.† It was true. In all the excitement, I was so full of adrenaline that I'd all but forgotten about where Lee had stabbed me. No wonder I was so dizzy. Or maybe that was from getting my head smacked into the wall. It was anyone's guess at this point. â€Å"Here,† said Adrian gently. He reached for my arms with his cuffed hands. â€Å"I can take care of this.† A slow, tingling warmth spread through my skin. At first, Adrian's touch was comforting, like an embrace. I felt my tension and pain begin to ease. All was right in the world. He was in control. He was taking care of me. He was using his magic on me. â€Å"No!† I shrieked, pulling away from him with a strength I didn't know I had. The horror and full realization of what was happening to me was too powerful. â€Å"Don't touch me! Don't touch me with your magic!† â€Å"Sage, you'll feel better, believe me,† he said, reaching toward me again. I backed away, clinging to the edge of the counter for support. The fleeting memory of that warmth and comfort was being dwarfed by the terror I'd carried my entire life for vampire magic. â€Å"No, no, no. No magic! Not on me! The tattoo will heal me! I'm strong!† â€Å"Sage – â€Å" â€Å"Stop, Adrian,† said Jill. She approached me tentatively. â€Å"It's okay, Sydney. He won't heal you. I promise.† â€Å"No magic,† I whispered. â€Å"For God's sake,† growled Adrian. â€Å"This is superstitious bullshit.† â€Å"No magic,† Jill said firmly. She took off the button-up shirt she'd been wearing over a T-shirt. â€Å"Come here, and I'll use this to wrap it so that you don't lose any more bl – â€Å" An earsplitting shriek jerked us all back toward the living room. Eddie had made his kill, driving his stake right into the middle of Dawn's chest. In my brief scuffle with Adrian and Jill, Dawn must have gotten some shots in on Eddie because there was a large red mark on one side of his face, and his lip was bleeding. The expression in his eyes was hard and triumphant, however, as he pulled the stake out and watched Dawn fall. Through all the confusion and horror, basic Alchemist instincts took over. The danger was gone. There were procedures that needed to be followed. â€Å"The bodies,† I said. â€Å"We have to destroy them. There's a vial in my purse.† â€Å"Whoa, whoa,† said Adrian as both he and Jill restrained me. â€Å"Stay where you're at. Castile can get it. The only place you're going is to a doctor.† I didn't move but immediately argued with that last statement. â€Å"No! No doctors. At least, you have to – you have to get an Alchemist one. My purse has the numbers – â€Å" â€Å"Go get her purse,† Adrian told Jill, â€Å"before she has a fit here. I'll bind the arm.† I gave him a warning look. â€Å"Without magic. Which, by the way, could make this ten times easier.† â€Å"I'll heal on my own,† I said, watching as Jill retrieved my purse. â€Å"You realize,† added Adrian, â€Å"you're going to have to get over your dieting fixation and consume some major calories to fight the blood loss. Sugar and fluids, just like Clarence. Good thing someone bagged up all this candy on the counter.† Eddie walked over to Jill, and she paused as he asked if she was okay. She assured him she was, and although Eddie looked like he could kill about fifty more Strigoi, there was also a look in his eyes†¦ something I couldn't believe I'd never noticed before. Something I was going to have to think about. â€Å"Damn it,† said Adrian, fumbling with bandages. â€Å"Eddie, go search Lee's body and see if there's a key for these goddamned handcuffs.† Jill had been caught up in talking to Eddie but froze at the words â€Å"Lee's body.† Her face went so pale, she could have been one of the dead. In all the confusion, she hadn't noticed Lee's body in the chair. There'd been too much movement with the Strigoi, too much distraction by the threat they presented. She took a few steps toward the living room, and that's when she saw him. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out right away. Then she sped forward and grabbed his hands, shrieking. â€Å"No,† she cried. â€Å"No, no, no.† She shook him, as though that would wake him. In a flash, Eddie was by her side, his arms around her as he murmured nonsensical things to soothe her. She didn't hear him. Her whole world was Lee. I felt tears spring to my eyes and hated that they were there. Lee had tried to kill me and then had summoned others to kill me. He'd left a trail of innocents in his wake. I should be glad he was gone, but still, I felt sad. He had loved Jill, in his insane way, and from the pain on her face, it was clear she'd loved him too. The spirit bond hadn't shown her his death or role in our capture. Right now, she simply thought he was a victim of Strigoi. Soon enough, she'd learn the truth about his motives. I didn't know if that would ease her pain or not. I was guessing not. Weirdly, an image of Adrian's Love painting came back to me. I thought of the jagged red streak, slashing through the blackness, ripping it apart. Staring at Jill and her inconsolable pain, I suddenly understood his art a little bit better.