I was born in a world where monsters are real, that in the security of one’s room, evil lurks and there is no escaping it, for they watch and wait for their next kill.


The brightness of the blood that pooled where Eldon’s head had been looked like a halo, a devils halo.  I did not mourn, why should I, the man wanted me dead, wanted Kane dead and thought that he had done so, but we surprised him, the fool.  No, I didn’t mourn, I reveled in it.

I looked at Kane, half of me celebrated the other knew what had to be done, my Birthright.  I knew who and what I was, somewhat, but what I didn’t know needed to found out.  So much of my life was held from me and I still needed to know more, a lot more.  I was a Rosewood, at least part of me was.  I felt deep down that the mother I had always known, grew to love and missed, was not my true mother.  How do I know this?  I’m not exactly sure myself, something inside of me, something I sensed, an innate feeling that I can’t explain and that’s where Kane came into play.

The smell of burning flesh and clothes filtered through the crisp winter’s air.  Bits of charred clothing fibers and soot floated up, a soul of someone who was once was my relative, now gone.

I walked away.