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... e, rousing him from unconsciousness. It smelled wrong, almost like metal, but then a noise washed over Sen, freezing him in place. No, he realized, not a noise. It was a roar. His eyes snapped open. He looked up and saw, he didn’t know what he saw. It looked a bit like a boar, but no boar had ever been that big. It was as large as a horse, with tusks nearly as long as a sword. Blood was leaking from a slash across its face. It's injured, Sen thought. What happened? A moment later something blurr ...

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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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