Have you ever heard the bitter sweet tale of the man with a heart of Glass and Stone? No? Well listen closely then, and I shall tell you of his tale...

    Once lived a man, so very long ago. In love was he with a beautiful young maiden, adored by all men. They talked, they laughed, they shared their secrets. But he did not share all.

    Deadly was the secret that he kept locked in his heart. Hidden beneath years of scars and pains and fear. Fear for her. His job was murderous, Immoral. Yet unknown to his loving maiden. Yes, desperately and completely in love with her was he. But he would still harm her. For that was his way of life under his boss. Tears of remorse fled from his eyes as he thought regretfully of his maiden and his ruthless task soon to be carried out. His heart shattered at the thought of his lover, crimson liquid soaking her white sleeping gown, forever staining her beautiful, fair skin. The smooth and delicate skin only he had ever caressed and kissed, in the twighlight of night just as the moon and the sun exchanged places in the sky.

    T'was midnight this night when the task would be done. The moonlight casting a ethereal glow upon his lovers' face. Slumber consumed her as she lay without care. Her stunning red hair, thought to have been kissed with rubies, cascaded over her shoulders. The slight scraping of his sword as he dragged it slowly over the floor boards of their home went unnoticed. At what seemed like to soon, he halted in front of his lover, her small, helpless form curled up beneath the sheets of the bed.

    Why was he doing this, the man asked himself. What did his boss, his master, have against his love? What had she done to anger his boss? These were all good questions the man asked himself as he raised the sword above the heart of his sweet maiden. A loud sob escaped the mourning man as he raised the sword an inch higher. Hearing this, the young woman's eyes opened just before his sword plunged into her, a small croak escaping her lips as crimson flooded the white sheets of the bed, and stained her pale skin.

    Before her last breath, his lover whispered to him brokenly, "So....my dear....you are a man with a heart of glass and stone...I had my suspicions of your work...now you have confirmed them..."

    Not wanting to live, live without his maiden, the man withdrew the sword from her body. His eyes clenched and his body shivering, he lifted the sword to his own heart, his last thought being part of the words she had whispered with effort but only a mere moment ago; "...you are a man with a heart of glass and stone...I had my suspicions of your work...now you have confirmed them..."