“When I first met him, he was far from the man I know him as now. For you see, others who also did not understand him, had chased him for many days from their village, through the woods, and into the place I called home. He was weak and dying.....”
“Sometimes I think you purposely don’t listen to what I’m saying, and you take in just enough words that you think will assist you in not being part of the conversation, but allowing you to seem like you are at the same time.” “Don’t you think that’s a bit rough?”
“Grandmothers stories of the Wiccan. The tree of family, and the bodies buried beneath it.” Patrick hisses in his father’s face. “Her lineage had depleted almost all of the blood, but a plan was hatched, a mirror was cast, and your line was brought back to where it truly belonged.”
“You realise our names will go down in the history books for this, right?” Jensen says as he casts Damien a crooked smile. “No one will forget out names,” Damien replies before they both erupt into unparalleled laughter. “For god's sake, can you two keep those childish jokes to yourselves!”
Philip gets to his feet and slaps Stephen across the face with a powerful backhand, sending him to the ground in a pathetic heap. “NO WORDS BOY! REMEMBER THE RULES, OR I’LL PUNISH YOU TO THE ENDS OF TIME AND BEYOND! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?” He bellows with a murderous roar.
A sarcastic clap grows louder as a shrouded figure strides proudly from the shadows that paint the earth beyond the circle of blood that Lambert now stands at the centre of. “No one before you has been so destructive, unless you count the deeds I have done with this hand....”
”I used your words to draw my scars. What could I leave?” He hisses through clenched teeth as he glides around the floor like a shark lost in an ocean of blood trying to find the sea to breath. “My scars are deeper. My scars you can’t see,” she says.
“I don’t like it when my toys are broken before I can brake them myself,” she says as she pirouettes, and then comes to stop in front of another young woman, this one stares at her with tear filled eyes. “Ah, that’s better, a live one!” “P-P-P-Please,” the girl stammers.
With its other hand it thrusts its fist through its chest, grips its spinal column and pulls it back through, severing whatever life it had. It stands there and lets out a low growl, almost as if it was purring, then stands up straight once more and sniffs the air...
"With all the shit going on in the world, I’d rather not shake your hand. Being a stranger and all,” he says. She stares at him with a raised eyebrow and retracts her hand. “You had no qualms thrusting your unprotected member inside that street whore minutes ago, did you?"