Watch how they jump. Watch how they fall. Watch how they wither and scream and cry and beg.

Yes, beg me. While you're pointing the gun at your own head, tell me just how valid your life is to somebody.

Tell me just why I should detach the strings and let you carry on with that farce you call an existence.

None of you have ever proven your worth. Only her. This is why she was my favorite.

Such a strong will broken and bent and molded into something else. In the end, I know that twisted darkness within her craved more.

Your whole being shook for it, Jessica, and how I loved denying it to you, because in the end I wanted you to beg me for it.

To beg me with lucid eyes and mind as you realized it was you embracing the darkness with me, and not me playing the puppeteer.

You hate me, Jessica Jones, because you hate yourself.

Always a part of you, Jessica. No matter where you go. No matter where you are. I will always be there, watching you.

Follow the debris and find me, Jessica. The broken toys you call people. Oh, how I love seeing me under your skin.

A place for everything and everything in its place. It has to be perfect. From floor to ceiling and wall to wall.

The little breadcrumbs which lead to the front door. The line of puppets who each bring a message with them.

Remember when things were perfect, they're all here to say. Remember how it was before it all went awry.

There's something about loss that makes you want to pursue it that much more doggedly, and I am not one to be held back from what I desire.

It all has to come together like pieces filling out a puzzle. A winding pathway leading to a front door.

All it needs now is a special marionette. An expendable one. Ah. You'll do nicely.

Have the nightmares continued? You don't really believe I'm gone, do you?

I've escaped death once and slithered up your spine when you least expected it. Haunted your sleep until questioned reality.

My dear, dear Jessica Jones, you're never going to be rid of this. Of us. It'll be in your veins like poison until you die.

Because deep down inside, you've never confronted the part of you that wanted it. That still wants it. That still wants me.