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... she was trying to calm her seething anger. “This was all for me, huh?”


Phante had laid out the various baskets of ‘goods’ in front of Edora. Each basket was large enough to hold Edora and then some, carrying piles of ‘goods’ within them. They were the materials for the dress she half-jokingly stated to her mother in private.


‘Is this guy crazy…? Who the hell takes that seriously?!’


All the things Phante brought back were, at one time, from terrifying existences. T ...

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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?”

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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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