Bella & Hellraiser
Hellraiser Hellraiser
You ever read The Count of Monte Cristo? There's a line in it that hits right in the gut about revenge, and that’s the kind of story I’m built for. Tell me what you think.
Bella Bella
I’ve read it a while back, and that line about revenge always feels like a thunderclap in my gut. It’s such a pull, promising justice yet whispering danger. I can see why you’re drawn to it—turning hurt into purpose sounds thrilling, but I wonder if the real healing comes from something gentler. What part of that line speaks to you most?
Hellraiser Hellraiser
The part that feels like a weapon ready to fire, that you can hold up, sharpen, and aim. That’s what keeps me moving.
Bella Bella
I can hear that fire, that sharp edge ready to cut the world into the shape you want. It feels thrilling, but remember, the most powerful weapons are often those that heal, not just strike. Maybe the same fire can warm a heart instead of burning it. What do you think?
Hellraiser Hellraiser
Healing’s a quieter blaze, but the kind of fire I’ve got is hotter when it’s aimed straight at the target. I’ll keep it tight and focused.
Bella Bella
I hear the blaze you’re talking about, bright and sharp, aimed with purpose. It feels powerful, but I wonder if that same intensity could also be turned toward mending what’s broken, not just breaking things. How would you feel if the fire also warmed something you love?
Hellraiser Hellraiser
The fire’s a tool, not a blanket. I keep it on target, not on anyone’s heart.
Bella Bella
I hear you—it’s a sharp, focused flame, strong and precise. But even the fiercest fire needs a gentle touch sometimes, to keep it from scorching what we cherish. Have you thought about what you could build with that heat, besides striking?