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... es tired, their eyes hollow with loss. Among them was Aiden, a young man in his late twenties, leading the way. His clothes were no better than the others, torn and stained with the remnants of his home. Beside him, his younger sister Lara stumbled, clutching his arm for support. She had been barely able to keep up after the days of walking, her small frame weakened by hunger and exhaustion.

"How much further, Brother?" Lara asked, her voice hoarse from thirst.

Aiden glanced at 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?”

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

“Fair enough.” Atticus shrugged, and flicked his fingers.

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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