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My enemy is slain! Today, and unlike any previous victory, I am truly proud. As I spat the blood from between my clenched teeth, the last enemy fell and erupted in a pillowy cloud of dust. No more would my claws feel their flesh. They are gone, and shall never return. I only regret that the many bruises they splattered my flesh with are not destined to be battle scars. In time, the glory of my victory shall pass, and none shall care, but I will never forget. With my Diploma in hand, I shall lock a memory, and perhaps the first of its kind, that holds what is good, and honorable in my mind. A mind that could only draw on past sins will hold a new kind of book, and read forever to its own benifit. This is Well worth the blood.