The funeral was quiet, burning candles blazing vibrant orange in red inside the gloomy room to match the sound of rain upon the glass windows of the funeral home made as though it were a church. Alaric had never been a religious man, and he couldn't say for sure whether he was human or not, if that would ever change. God didn't take pain, nor did he protect people from death. It was something to give people hope for their sins and ease in their life. But once you knew the truth, it didn't help anything.
He stuffed his hands in his pocket just as they entered through the oakwood open doors. Her mother's photo sat on a long table behind the open casket where she lay with her hands folded over her chest. It wasn't her mother though.
