((ah, my bad))<br/><br/>Jack cracked a smile, then thought, 'Killing is easy every time, that's why it's so dangerous. Things are so fragile, just a little pressure to the wrong spot and you have a corpse.' He looked at Dradel, his smile still there. 'Sure, I may not know you, but then again I don't care to. I don't care about what a corpse thinks, because the fact of the matter is it's still a corpse. You just can't stand the fact that I got out and you didn't. Now you only exist in my head, poor you. You can't be seen or heard by a single living soul that isn't named Jackson Hawthorne, poor you. You can't talk to anyone on this train besides me, whereas I can say whatever I damn well please to them, poor fucking you. I don't care about what you think of me, and I said why. I don't care what corpses think of me, not one Goddamn bit.'