Red on his fingers. Red on his teeth.
"Do you want to know how your mother begged, son?"
A monster's eyes peering down at him from above.
"She wanted me to keep you. Begged for me to raise you. And that's because you're weak!"
Then, he was thrown across the room like a rag doll. His legs burnt by the fire. Leather binds his feet. There's nowhere to go. Nowhere to run to.
"You ought to learn a lesson. You like learning lessons, don't you?"
Red.
Red.
Red.
There's a harrowing cackle. There's the gleam of the rod. The silhouette walks to the fireplace. And the large metal brand in bony fingers – it's ignited by the flames. It glows like a death sentence.
He winces, scurrying away.
'D-Don't… Don't… P-Please… Don't…'
Then, the large metal brand incinerates his heart.
Numbness. Blankness. Darkness.
And blood.
