"The blood that has been spilt is that of his wife. Now you can understand why every minute is a torture to me. “But Sebastian! I need them!” He smiled, not a smile of comfort, but a smile of terrible menace. She went about the gory business of disposing of the bodies, cutting them up with a large butcher knife and packing the light dry pieces of their bloodless remains in a double ply garbage bag, pieces that looked like overcooked, ruined meat. "Your son," answered the boy. ‘But on the off chance—slim, I grant you —that there is a spy down there, I don’t want to miss the fun.
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