We know that Ike has a thing for beautiful situations and the charm of the moment.
He is someone who sees the charm in the way things are arranged. How things fit to each-other. The true POWER of a scene such as a sunset, ancient ruins or the majesty of a mountain top.

In the light of that, imagine the following scene.
He lured you to a remote warehouse.
Gradually, he cuts the clothes of your body as you're too paralyzed to move (the few times you tried, his grip seemed far stronger than should be possible from such a lithe man), before shackling you hand and foot to an operating table.
He rubs you down with various soaps and oils, until you are clean and glistening, every inch of skin as if perfectly polished marble.

Following that, he produces a calligraphy brush and a second knife far finer than the first.
He starts cutting just above your ankle, a thin red line springing forth, into which he dips his pen as he starts drawing exquisitely crafted glyphs upon your bare skin in your own blood.

The process lasts for hours, his blade summoning a new laceration each time the previous one runs dry, working his way up your legs and stomach to your chest and down your arms.

Once you're covered all over in his work he stands back and admires his work, smiling as he produces a polaroid camera and puts his book atop a stand next to your head.
"You are beautiful" he whispers, as he snaps a picture of your nude, lacerated, text-covered form, before setting the camera down and giving you a long, passionate kiss.
He straightens, and nods to himself, opening the book and sticking the rapidly-developing photo onto the very first page.

"One last thing".
You feel a slight sting on your neck, barely noticeable, and it is only as the world starts to waver you realize that he expertly slit your throat.
He unchains one arm, pressing your thumb to the wound and then where picture meets paper, sealing the memory in your own draining life's blood.

He holds it up, and just as you slip into unconsciousness the picture of yourself laying there fully clears up.
You smile, as you realize he was right.

You are, indeed, beautiful.
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