Charles had planned this, down to the minutest detail. It would work, too, without a doubt... That is, if the sniveling creature he could barely bring himself to acknowledge as his son didn't mess it all up. His patience was being sorely tried.
"Do it, boy." Charles' low growl promised that retribution for this failure would be tremendous.
Tobias flinched, his hand trembling so badly he nearly dropped God's Will. Charles clenched his teeth hard.
'Pathetic, weak, disgusting little FOOL. '
He couldn't take it any longer. "DO IT NOW!"
It was barely a twitch of Tobias' right index finger. Just a small thing, really. But the shot, perfect and echoing into the dead night, was there; the evidence in the center of his father's forehead. -murderer-
The revolver clattered from Tobias' numb fingers to the frozen ground, and his father screamed at his clumsiness. -Pick. It. UP.-
This was Charles Hankel's final blow. Tobias' psyche, already webbed with a million tiny fractures, could never hope to withstand it. It shattered the boy, each piece empty and jagged as the next, and ripped him from his body in under a second.
Because Charles Hankel would never forsake control.
Not even in death.
