Chapter 47: The Sins You Face at the Gates of Hell
It’s unmistakably Oliver’s voice that echoes off the walls, but Alastair cannot see him. Both him and his father whip their heads around, but cannot pinpoint where the sound is coming from.
“Oliver?!” Alastair calls desperately. “Oliver, you have to leave! It’s not safe—“
Alastair is cut off by the brutal hand of his father smacking him to the ground. He’s on the floor before he can even register the pain. When it does come, he thinks his jaw might be broken.
The lights begin to flicker and a few bulbs pop, casting half the room in darkness.
“You useless boy!” Cecil rages, his hair has gone askew and his eyes glow a dangerous red. “I have to do everything myself!”
Blood pools and stings Alastair’s eyes, but he swears he can hear popping sounds followed by the hiss of rushing liquid.
“Come out, little necromancer!” Cecil sing-songs, madly. A cruel laugh tumbles from his lips then. “You have got to be joking.”