Disclaimer: Don't own
Lie's We Tell
Prologue
Virgil stood, his eyes wide, almost vacant, as sweat poured from his face in rivulets. His hands, closed into trembling fists round the handle of the knife, held above his head. Ready for the downward strike.
Ready to kill the man who had caused his family so much pain.
But he couldn't make his arms go down, he couldn't strike the blow, something inside him wouldn't let him do it.
It was a horrific tableau. Virgil, standing in the bloodied glory of a hero, sword raised to strike down some ancient creature of evil. But something stayed his hand.
The vision of Gordon, rocking Alan, singing an old lullaby brokenly, swept before him, shaking him to his very core.
He stared at the man who had done this, caused his family so much pain and suffering. And his whole body shook with the effort, as memory upon memory assailed him. His hands shook and the knife wavered.
So focused, so immersed in the pain that the voices, screaming in unison actually made him stumble forward, knife still raised high.
At the same moment the Hood rose-like a deadly spectre and plunged a long slim blade into Virgil's chest.
Virgil gasped and the knife in his hands trembled once before it clattered to the floor-the noise like the breaking of glass in the complete silence.
Then one voice-screaming-as darkness enveloped him.
"Virgil!"
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