The Birth of Medusa
There are rules.
Jack is a creature who is all about rules and laws. The ones made by man, which are of no consequence, indeed, which must be broken to show the hubris of those who would presume to fetter his grandeur, and the ones he has set forth, which must be obeyed, especially by himself, to show the glory of his mind and will.
Tonight, Jack is breaking his rules.
The body tied to his bed is smooth as satin. His keen senses catch the faint traces of formaldehyde and lavender that cling to her skin. Both suit her and neither suit her. The same goes for the gag in her mouth and the bindings that hold her fast. She is a creature of quiet and calm and precision. She is a creature of life and passion and movement.
He has never sullied himself by debauching one of the forms he uses to create and, if he were one to question himself, he might wonder why this one is so different. Why he feels, not the indifferent passion of the artist, but the base passion of the animal man as he gazes at her - helpless under his hands.
He will slake his passions and she will suffer - all the more damnably for having caused him to degrade himself. When Grace Alvarez is next seen, there will be screaming. Her punishment will serve as a warning to those who would bring this god to Earth.