Sophia's Chronicles
Chapter 12: The Damnation
The skies parted. We were but bright specks of light hurling towards the earth at the speed of sin. The heat hurt. But I probably didn't even feel the worst of it. I was barely lucid. Images swirled in and out of vision. I don't know how it must have felt for the other angels with us but I imagine my drained strength dulled the intensity of the experience of falling towards Earth like a meteor. The only constant was the pull of gravity and Lucifer's protective arms around me. The ground was like an open sore as it shifted into a gaping hole. It revealed a vast darkness that put the vivid green beauty of the earth to shame. We fell… and we fell… for the beginning of an eternity. We fell into that pit of misery and guilt known as Hell.
The darkness consumed us in its uncomfortable embrace.
I don't remember when we landed but we did, somewhere, somehow. The heat enveloped us like a thick blanket and I recognised the source of this heat to be a sulfurous flame by the smell alone. Lucifer had set me down on some raised platform and sat down against it. We had remained like this for years while he tried to heal me as and when he could. What were years compared to the lifetime of angels? What were years spent in Hell compared to those on earth? Not a word was spoken between us during this time. The most obvious of reasons was that I was physically unable to move for most of this period. That platform had practically become my bed and every part of me ached to even twitch. Lucifer would have given me the herbs I needed to heal more quickly but incidentally, I was the only person who was capable of spawning such life forms in Hell. Instead, he ordered some of the Fallen to go earth-side and scour for the needed plants.
Another, less obvious, reason was Lucifer himself. I couldn't imagine what he was feeling. He was so uncannily quiet and lost in thought. It was eerie. No one dared approach him. From my spot, I could only hear the distant wailing of our fallen brethren like a demented chorus. It reminded me of the chorus we heard just before the rebellion, when the angels sang praises of God. Strange how perceptions change so quickly. I found myself asking why something borne out of love had damned us for all eternity. Maybe there was some deeper meaning to this. Was it repentance? Did God want us to appreciate our lives more? Surely, this was a temporary punishment. Maybe He would come visit us and tell us of our wrongs. I felt so numb. I had just disappointed yet another divine parent. My heart stung with the thought that I'd become so lost. Life felt… directionless at this point. Maybe that was partly why I didn't get up for a long time. What was there to see when God had turned away from me?
The other angels were in a much worse condition than us. Some had died during the fall, some had damaged their wings, and some were not fortunate enough to regain their footing on any platform and thus were left burning in the sulfur. We did get them out eventually, but their sanity had been lost on them. And as I learnt, sanity for angels became more and more of a loose concept. The angels were in absolute torment, crying out desperately and getting into petty arguments with each other. It was not a good time.
Lucifer had soon gotten to work. His commanding presence hadn't been changed by the Fall. "Get to work, all of you!" he ordered. "Build me a palace."
"Fallen into shame and you think you can give us orders?" an angel scoffed. I turned my head to observe the interaction, the first of any movement. "I'm no slave of yours!"
Lucifer marched up to the angel, his gait brisk and threatening. I'd never seen him move so quickly and tensely before. It was almost murderous. He grabbed the angel by the throat and lifted him up. The poor angel floundered like a fish out of water in his grasp, wearing a shock-riddled expression. The others gathered around, trembling at the sight. "Think you're too good for a pile of rubble, do you? I think you might be too good for life itself. I'll be happy to relieve you of the shame," he growled.
"N-no, archangel, no," the angel begged, hands clamouring at Lucifer's.
Lucifer simply threw the angel at the crowd. He landed noisily at their feet, causing them to flinch. "Listen to me, all of you. You will do as I say, and build me a goddamn palace out of this rot. Because that's what we all are now. Damned by God Himself," he scowled. "And you, scum of Heaven, will make me King of the damned ruins if I will it so!"
Without anything better to do, they did as he said. Lucifer assumed his seat against my stone bed again, a knee pulled up as he cynically eyed the angels going to work. Every now and then, he yelled at them for taking so much as a second in between tasks, even beating them into submission. Admittedly, even I flinched from time to time at the sound of his anger. It was painful and I barely recognised him anymore. What would I even say to him? I felt like I failed him in every way possible. I was supposed to make sure this didn't happen – that he didn't devolve into this monster consumed by his own rage.
I managed to shift my hand slightly. I rested in on his shoulder. He was momentarily startled but soon relaxed at my touch. I traced his shoulder, his neck, his ear and his hair. He felt like a solid mass of ice, colder than I'd ever known him to be before. I hadn't even noticed the wisps of cold mist emanating from him until then. They seemed to flow in waves, seeping off the edge of the platform and into the deep abyss below. As I found out later, he had single-handedly created the lake of ice in the Ninth Circle of Hell by simply being this way.
He simply watched for years as the construction went on and on. There was always this large radius around us that no one dared enter. I think Hassiel did at one point. He slowly approached, beckoning to Lucifer to ask for permission to see me. Though hesitant, Lucifer relented. He took a few steps away, watching us with folded arms. Hassiel said some words of comfort that I barely remembered, though the concerned look on his face as he regarded me will forever be etched into my memory. He took my hand and placed something in it. My thumb traced the ridges of the solid mass. I knew what it was – the bronze hawk that he had so passionately carved for me. It must have been lost from my person during the Fall. "Thank you," I whispered, unsure if even a word made it through my lips.
He simply nodded and retreated, getting back to work. Lucifer's scarlet eyes followed the angel before returning to me. This was the first time I was granted any relief from pain. The hawk heated up in my hand. I only had to take so much as a breath – its energy filled me like an elixir. Life flowed through me again, healing some of my wounds. It felt like a fire had been awakened in me. Unable to believe it, I actually sat up. I looked around myself. A quick peek over the platform we were on showed me that the edge extended infinitely downwards, leading only into the blue flame of the lake of sulfur. I thought I saw a burnt, dislodged wing stuck on a rocky scaffold. Sucks to be that guy.
The hawk's eyes glowed an emerald green in my hand. Hassiel, you genius. Whatever metal it was made of, it could channel my energy, serving as a battery of sorts. I tried extending my wings. It didn't hurt anymore. What a relief. My feet quivered slightly as I shifted my weight onto them, pulling myself into a standing position. Lucifer rushed over to help me but I was adamant on doing it on my own, taking a step down with only a hand of his. I looked up. The angels all stopped and stared at me. I didn't understand why then, but as it turned out, they had all thought I was dead.
The angels had grown quieter from this point. No more unbearable wailing, although that didn't make the torment of Hell any easier to bear. The pain of Hell was not physical – we were all still intact and perfectly capable of survival. Instead, Hell was a place that brought out guilt and shame. Indeed, it was a place meant for repentance and reflection, but to do so would be to confront one's repressed emotions about one's own crimes. In such a dark and lonely place, it was only the deepest and darkest parts of oneself that could be known with clarity. But somehow Lucifer seemed more peaceful than everyone else. He had no guilt or shame about his actions, only disappointment in the way things had turned out. It was like he knew he belonged here and that worried me. He was already making it his home, designing it in his own vision. He wanted to rule the ruins, he'd said.
What my feelings were on this matter, however, could be summarised by what I did next. I took a few more steps forward, free of Lucifer's grip. He, like the others, simply watched as I carefully strode. First, down the steps of the raised platform and then, through the crowd of labouring angels. Just like that, I put one foot in front of the other. "Where are you going?" Lucifer called out after me. His words fell on deaf ears. My legs just moved and soon I found myself standing on earth again, breathing in its fresh air.
I closed my eyes and extended my arms and wings far out to my sides, relishing the feel of sunlight on them. This natural warmth, unpolluted by an unholy substance as sulfur, comforted me. I retreated to the forests of the earth. There, the damp smell of grass, the sandy texture of soil and presence of trees overwhelmed me. Nature, my shrine, my creation, my power – being in its presence made me break down and bawl like a little child. I missed it so much. How the forest received me with open arms. Its aura connected so seamlessly with my consciousness that it was like being welcomed into the warm embrace of the sun itself. I cried a literal river into existence at the feeling of being rooted into the earth. I was so taken with emotion that I had to consciously control my powers lest let the river grow into a flood that would wipe out all the life and trees. I just couldn't have that. Instead, I slowed the river into a gentle stream that enriched the life of the forest and formed smooth pebbles.
I found a nice, large tree that grew to such a height and width that was never reached by any tree in existence after that. Using just my hands and feet, I climbed its grey bark like I always had as a child. I had no better way of explaining the sheer relief I got from this. Being in a forest, it was like becoming a new organism – I was one with all of the trees and creatures and we were as a single deity. Every breath of the forest was a breath of mine. It was like being in a cocoon – safe and sound. So I crawled onto a thick branch, lay my weary head on it and went to sleep.
What was sleep to a thing like me? A temporary suspension of consciousness for a decided amount of time, that's what. Although, I still remained connected to the forest. Any strange movement in the forest would immediately alert me and I'd awaken. Luckily, that didn't happen. My little nap was unimpeded, which I wasn't sure was a good thing. I didn't know how many nights and days had passed by the time I woke up. On some level, I didn't want to know.
When I finally roused, a rain had just ended. I lazily sat up. I was now fully healed, replenished by the earth. Somehow I'd felt worse than before I went to sleep. I supposed it was time I returned to Hell to continue my eternal damnation but a bitter feeling grew within me instead. It should be normal that one would try to avoid eternal damnation, perhaps, but if I accepted my fate, I had to face it. It was my obligation.
I found myself aching for a sense of familiarity. As I walked through the forest, I kept reminding myself that Gabe would not come to me upon a single message, that the angels would not oblige my command, and that my house no longer existed. Perhaps that hurt the most. Those sturdy foundations and encompassing roof no longer existed as my sanctuary. My home within my home, lost in the embers just like the chances of returning to Heaven. Every memory, every laugh, every kiss within those walls – it all burnt me with a single thought.
Hell soon appeared again. When I returned, there were stone walls and hallways, banners and carpets, torches and thrones. This came as a shock to me, considering that it was still a pile of dirt when I'd left. Now there was a roof over my head. Admittedly, it looked well-furnished, for a place where the air was always stale and smelled of shame. No one should underestimate what Lucifer could accomplish with his iron will. As I walked down the hallways, I noticed that no one was here. Where did everyone go? I quickly found out.
There were two large metal doors, unlike any other I'd seen so far. Curious, I placed my palms on them. With a resolute shove, the rustic doors swung open before me. And this was the moment of truth. Their noisy chatter stopped abruptly as their heads turned to me. It was a large and long room, with several pillars creating a wide isle in the centre. In between the pillars on the same side were chairs on which the Fallen had taken their place. And at the head of the isle, on a platform raised three steps, were two thrones – one directly in the centre and the other to its left, tilted slightly towards the centre. And on the main throne sat my Morningstar, gaze furious and posture regal. A King not to be messed with.
"Sophia," he uttered my name, surprised. His posture eased as he stood. I approached. The room was eerily silent as the angels watched and heard my every footstep. I halted at the centre of the room at some distance away from the throne. No doubt my unkempt appearance from wallowing in the woods was not something anyone wanted to see near a throne. Lucifer looked at me as he always did – with worry and concern. I reciprocated the feeling wordlessly.
"It is customary to kneel before a King," an angel interrupted our unspoken conversation.
"Pledge your allegiance, archangel," another snapped in a tone I'd never known an angel to speak with. Again, I was reminded of the debilitating effects of Hell on all beings save archangels. They'd become like savages, brought to heel only by Lucifer's command.
"You've been away a while," another hissed. "I reckon she's conspiring against us!"
Not long after, they practically burst into an uproar, demanding that I be constrained in some form or another. I flinched, shocked to the core by the pure bitterness they were capable of. Shackles, dungeons, pits of spikes – these were all things they suggested. And Lucifer had made all of this possible?
"Quiet, all of you!" Lucifer bellowed. They shut up immediately. "The next person who talks to their Queen in that way will have their head on a pike!" Some of them visibly shrunk in their seats. I followed their wary gazes to the ceiling and surely enough, I found… heads mounted on pikes. The sight was gory, hideous and made my stomach turn. Tongues dangling out of their mouths, eyes upturned – a shudder threatened to shake me. My gaze glided downwards to find Lucifer's again. With the softness I saw in them then, it would have been impossible for me to tell that he had done this. And then I realised: maybe that was the problem. "This court session is adjourned. Don't jump off the edge, morons."
The fact that he even had to say that… what even was this? Lucifer proceeded down the steps with an authority and confidence I couldn't find in myself.
"Come with me," he ordered, guiding me with an arm around my shoulders. I said nothing as he led me in some unknown direction. We went up some stairs and then some more stairs until we reached the highest floor. It was considerably quieter here, peaceful even. "This is our floor. No one will disturb us here."
He showed me to a room he called ours. It was spacious with a bed against one wall and other furniture. There was a smaller room inside, in which he proceeded to draw a hot bath. He helped me out of my clothes and into the warm water, taking a seat himself next to the large, round tub.
"Where did you go? I was worried that something might have happened to you," he spoke. Perhaps the distress in his voice was the first thing to ever sound normal since we fell.
"I just needed to recharge," I replied, refusing to meet his gaze. I busied myself with washing off the grime of the earth.
"You look better," he remarked. "Healthier, I mean. Whatever you've done, it's worked."
I supposed he smiled but I was too drained of will to notice. His hand traversed down my back, using the hot water to accelerate my task.
"Talk to me, Sophie," he pleaded.
"What do you want to talk about?" I simply asked, now working on my legs.
"Anything. Just say something," he begged. "I missed you."
"Don't…" I trailed off. My eyes stung. My heart ached. His arms wrapped around me, pulling me closer. He kissed my head, making his way down to my cheeks and lips. I was powerless against the thief who stole my breath. The King who commanded my love. The killer who murdered my sanity. He dug deeper, his tongue enslaving mine. Soon, his arms lay siege, invading my thighs. As much as I craved his love, I just couldn't bring myself to enjoy it. Before he could lean into the tub to join me, I couldn't help but push him away. He stopped immediately, appearing troubled. "Sorry… I just can't… not now…"
He retreated dejectedly to his seat. "Did you even want to come back?" he asked, a tremble in his voice.
It was telling that I had no answer to that, just an incomprehensible mumble. Seeing the pained look on his face gave me second thoughts. He shifted in his seat, sighing and rubbing his face. "I'm not going to leave you," I finally said after an improper silence. "I was put here to suffer, same as you. I'll not run away from my fate."
"We don't have to suffer," Lucifer said. I shook my head in disappointment. Had he really lost it this time? "Suffering is a choice."
I huffed. "I'm sure your loyal subjects can testify to that, Your Grace," I scoffed rather sharply. Done with my bath, I got up, legs dripping with water. Lucifer handed me a towel, not bothering to hide his annoyance. His lips formed a thin, pink line and his eyebrows grew forebodingly neutral.
"What I mean is-" he began as I stormed off in search of clothes. He followed me with measured steps into the room. "Father put us here because He thinks we'll suffer. He wants us to suffer. So that we might repent and seek His forgiveness. And for what? Daring to speak against Him? Isn't that ridiculous?"
"I don't know if it's that simple," I answered, shrugging. "I don't know what to think."
"Exactly. He'll never give us a straight answer. So we have to make of it what we can," he said firmly. "Here-" he reached out and pulled open a closet door, revealing an array of dresses which I'd never seen before. They were all long and flowing, just the way I liked them, and in different colours and designs. He pulled out one in black and held it against me. "I had them made. Just for you. Oh, and-" I held the finely-made cloth, wondering how he'd gotten such a fine quality, as he rummaged inside for something else. He brought out a small, flat box, from a pile of several others and opened its cover. The necklace and other ornaments radiated a gold shine from inside the box, like small stars in a dark galaxy. "A Queen must adorn only the finest of dresses and jewels."
I cradled the box carefully with both palms, admiring the craftsmanship. It was all so elegant, so beautiful. So unfitting of a place like Hell, just like the rest of this castle. Even in my state of distress, I couldn't help but admire the jewellery. Lucifer always did pamper me like this. But now? "Is that what I am now? A Queen?"
"You are. And you will be," he swore. "When you walk down the aisle and the Fallen bear witness to our union. God and all of Heaven will watch as we say our vows."
He seemed so hopeful and if it had been any other circumstance, I would be overjoyed. I would be ridden with tears of joy just imagining our love being on display for everyone to know. But there was something he was missing. A near fatal misjudgement that only I had the foresight to see. "Is this really… the best thing… for us?" I dared ask. Again, I could see the hurt fighting its way to his face though it really wasn't what I had intended. It hurt me too to say it but I had to.
"You don't even want to…" he assumed, eyebrows contorting into the pained look of an injured puppy that he had.
"It's not that," I rushed to defend. "Of course, I want to-"
"Do you even love me anymore?" he snapped. I was frozen in shock that he would even think that way.
"Lucifer-"
"Of course you don't. What was I thinking? I've literally dragged you down to Hell with me," he turned around, exasperated, rubbing the back of his head with a hand.
"Listen to me!" I begged. "You're not thinking right about this."
"Oh it's me, is it?" he cut me off before I could explain further. God, talking to him could be such a struggle sometimes.
"Is this really the time? When we've lost everything? All our family, friends and home?" I yelled, tired of getting my voice unheard.
"It'll never be the right time if you waited for everything to come back, because it won't! Don't you see that we're finally free of them? Free to do whatever we want? So then it just boils down to whether you want it or not," he rebutted, throwing his arms up. "Do you, or do you not want us to be wedded?"
I took a deep breath. Everything I said seemed to be going over his head. But my flustered silence only angered him more. I had no idea how to get my anguish across but I tried anyway. My tear-choked voice fought for an exit as I said, "It's not about that. We've just been humiliated. Kicked into the dirt by people who claimed to love us once. They're looking down on us with shame as we speak. Everything we do will be wrong to them, don't you see? I don't want a marriage that they will use to debase us!" I spoke until I heaved for breath from the hurt it caused me. "And I don't want a marriage just because you want to spite them! I remember when we took our vows in secret because we only needed to promise ourselves in each other's eyes and that was enough for us. Isn't it enough anymore?"
By the time I finished my tirade, my vision was blurry and my cheeks damp. Yet, the steady up and down of his tense shoulders was evident to me. "I know they humiliated us. Believe me, I know," he uttered those last words slowly, agony etched into every one of them. "What do you want me to do about it? Sit around and cry all day? Find a nice spot in the ground and hibernate? I'm angry, Sophia. I am so very angry."
"I noticed," I said, crossing my arms. "Is this what you want to become? A merciless pillar of fire?"
"I will burn them for what they did to us," he vowed, eyes glowing with an intensity that matched hot lava. "I will show them that this will not faze us!"
"And you think our sacred union will prove them wrong?" I pointed out sharply. "You think playing at being a King will do anything?!"
That had an effect on him. A rather disastrous one, I might add. He seethed so much, the torches in the room erupted with fires that shot to the ceiling. "You think I joke?" he scorned. "I will build my kingdom. I will amass an army so great that we will be at war with Heaven for centuries to come. I will oppose Heaven however I can and when my time comes, I will lay waste to them!"
"Do you learn nothing from what happened?" I shot back. "It is a mercy that they did not kill us when they did! And you want to provoke them further?"
"If they thought that I wouldn't retaliate, they should have just killed me. Father thinks He can whip us into submission with this! How can you be okay with that?" he questioned. "What about our cause? What about hard truths? Or did you leave your integrity in Heaven?!"
"I value your life more than the truth!" I yelled. "Even if you are too consumed by anger, too foolish, to do it yourself!"
"I don't care what happens anymore, Sophie," he growled. He seemed almost confused that I was concerned at all, like it meant nothing. It truly dawned on me how far gone he was, unable to even understand that my concern was valid. He'd never been so adamant before. The way he looked now… he probably wanted to kill something. And this rage was all for me? For the fact that I wanted him to be unharmed? His anger seemed so out of proportion that I wasn't even sure what to say or do next. The Mark blared like a siren only I could hear, with waves of energy shooting outwards. It was now more powerful than ever. "Michael too claimed to care about me. And then he turned around and stabbed me in the back. Now you are singing the same tune."
"How dare you," I uttered pointedly. At this point, I couldn't control my own anger anymore. Every word that came out of his mouth stung me and I couldn't take it anymore. "How dare you suggest that I would do such a thing?!"
"Oh, I dare. See, that's the difference between you and me," he accused with a finger pointed at me. "I dare to say things people don't want to hear! So if you won't help me, then don't stand in my way!"
With that, he stormed off like a hurricane. I was paralysed where I stood as a whirlwind of emotions took control of me. At some point, I heard a loud crash – the sound of something breaking – and flinched. Was he so angry at me that he would get physical about it? I rued asking the question because I soon found the answer.
After a period of deliberation and general sadness, I threw on the dress and went out into the hallway out of pure fearfulness for him. With the way that he was, I worried that he might do something drastic. Technically, I wasn't wrong.
The hallway on our floor was empty. I entered the armoury. Weapons were neatly arranged against the walls, leaving a large training area in the middle. Hassiel had made all of this possible, no doubt. And if I knew Lucifer well enough, there had to be a secret compartment somewhere for his more prized weapons. Boys and their toys. Next, I checked the room at the end of the hallway which was set up for more strategic work. It resembled his office, with bookshelves and tables and all that. Still, no sign of Lucifer. But I did find a broken table. It was a large, thick table with an exquisite design. It had been ruptured straight through the centre. I traced the fractured wood with some apprehension, as if touching the impacted spot was akin to feeling the scald of his force on it. Such a shame to ruin such good craftsmanship, I thought. With barely any effort, I repaired the table, returning it to its unimpeded shine.
I treaded down the stairs to the lower floors. Perhaps he was in the throne room. A sharp noise pierced through the air, like a tight slap. It sounded faint from where I was. It seemed to be coming from the basement so I ventured there, finding this dungeon that I kept hearing about. It was considerably darker in here but perhaps that was the intention. The green light from my irises lit my path until I found several blue orbs looking at me. Some of the Fallen had gathered here ominously at the entrance. As soon as they saw me, they cleared a path in the middle while staying near the door to the rows of cells. Again, I heard that sharp noise and they flinched. This time, it was followed by a screaming. I gulped, unsure of what I was walking into. The Fallen had pulled up hoods on their robes, holding the cloth to their cheeks forebodingly. They remained silent, just lurking in the hallway.
My entry into the dungeon was unhindered. The green rays of light from my eyes scanned the cells in an attempt to find the source of the chilling noise. Ironic to word it that way, since I knew I was heading in the right direction from the fact that it just got colder and colder deeper in the dungeon. There was one cell with a door slightly ajar. My mind couldn't decide between speculating what I would see and remaining unanswerably blank as I approached. Ready to enter the darkness, my fingers gambled with the door, pulling it open as quietly as possible before I stepped inside.
Lucifer's muscles seemed to enjoy the movement, easing into motion with every swing. The whip cracked again, tearing apart the angel's flesh. He screamed, a shaking mess on the stone floor. The angel huddled in the corner, arms and legs full of open wounds. His face wasn't even visible – he'd buried it in his curled body. Lucifer barely made a single noise, relishing every moment. His aura was a violent mix of composure and destruction, something I just couldn't understand. I would be lying if I said it didn't frighten me. It left me quivering on the inside to think that this was the amount of anger he felt after our conversation. This was him, taking it out on someone else, because of something that happened between us. I wanted him to stop. But the words were caught in my throat from the fear of what I would see in his eyes if he turned around to face me.
As it turned out, I wouldn't have to say anything. The scarlet ray of light from his eyes met the green light of mine on the same spot on the wall. "You shouldn't be here," he uttered with a calm that held many mysteries.
"I think…" my voice quivered. "This is exactly… where I'm meant to be…"
His grip on the whip shifted. His thumbs circled the hilt, like he craved just another swing of the arm. If that was what he wanted so bad, he would get it. I plodded to the far wall of the cell where the angel cowered. "What are you doing?" he questioned, frustrated eyes fixed on me.
I simply knelt before him. "If you have so much anger…" I began.
"Stop this…" he ordered. He already seemed to know where this was going.
"Show me how it makes you feel," I ended my sentence.
"No," he rejected. "Get out of here, Sophie."
"Anger should be repaid to those who inflict it," I advised. "If I have upset you, then it is only fair that you hurt me in return. Not anyone else."
"Sophia!" he said my name in full this time, complete with the vexation that had built up inside him. It only seemed to infuriate him more.
"I don't need anyone else to take my punishment for me. Here," I turned around to face the wall. "You don't have to look at me if you don't want to." I undid the laces on the back of my dress, holding the cloth to my chest for the sake of modesty. I pulled my long, dark hair to my front to reveal my bare back. "Do it," I commanded him.
I heard a few heavy breaths. The tightening of his grip around the hilt. The elastic tension of the whip. I readied myself for the sting of the lash, even closing my eyes. And then it came – the sudden sound of a smack. I flinched. My back was unhurt. I chanced a look behind. The whip lay on the ground, angrily hurled against a wall. Lucifer was nowhere to be found. The angel dared to raise his head. I had never seen so much terror in anyone's eyes before.
