I gushed the rest of the amber liquid, recoiled in memories of that night.
The room was dimly lit and a colossal damage, blood smeared across the furniture and walls, the shards of vase besides.
The silence was deafening.
Nonetheless, it was a calculated move, by one.
The one, who ended it all, when he thrived in fear, of all the innocent souls captured and tortured.
For the devil he was, who baptized his name as fear. Fear which was
engraved in veins, mind and soul.
The one, who mocked us, triumphed in justice for the lost souls. Their Kin.
Neville Hunt about 3 years ago
Wow! Fascinating... but I’m still trying to work it out...
VerityAlways about 3 years ago
Thanks Neville, I know its abstract but wanted a bit tension.
VerityAlways about 3 years ago
It goes as a reverie of a detective solving a case and figured out that the murderer was a kin of the victims
VerityAlways about 3 years ago
Thanks for the vote Christopher.