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... ummoned creeping closer, their twisted forms barely discernible against the dark backdrop of the warped landscape. Their eyes glowed a sickly green, and they moved with an unnatural, jerking motion, their limbs long and spindly like nightmares pulled from the depths of someone’s deepest fear.

Pyris stood still, his eyes narrowing as he sized up the approaching horde. "And here I thought we would play mind games, perfect!"

He could feel the pulse of their dark energy, a chilling c ...

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“Now… where should I put you both?” he asked casually, not expecting a reply. “It’s regretful that I only have one chandelier.”

“Underneath my bed? No, no, too dirty. My dust bunnies don’t deserve this,” Atticus mused to himself. “The mantlepiece? How about the vanity table? I suppose if I lop off one of your heads I could mount it over… Wife, which head do you want to stare at while you do your hair?”

“Atticus!” Daphne screamed. “I don’t want any heads! Let them go.”

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There were two identical cracks as both necks snapped at once.

Daphne gasped, horrified. This man, her husband, had just killed two men with a flick of his finger, as though he was snuffing out candles.

“I told you to let them go!” Daphne cried out.

“Yes, I let them go,” Atticus said. Then, his eyes darkened. “To receive divine judgment from the heavens.”

……………………………………………………………

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