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... You're the reason…"

His voice trailed off. But Atticus did not pause.

There was no satisfaction in his eyes, no pride in his dominance.

Only silence.

Only judgment.

His gaze bore into Carius like a god looking upon a failed creation.

And then…

Carius shivered.

Something unfamiliar bloomed in his chest. A feeling he had hardly ever felt.

A feeling he didn't want to feel.

But it was there.

Fear.

...

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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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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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