For youTo my mother...The first blow was landed to her skull...To my father...He turned to see his gray eyes questioning the scene before him. The instant roar of anger of questions did not distract him from his goal. He advanced, watching the man of grey eyes backaway in fear.It's your son..."What are you doing?"He refused to answer as he raised his hand with the statue clutched benieth blood soaked fingers. The sticky crimson that clung to the skin felt well placed.Or it's your daughter...She suggested this. One of the ladies did; her advisor. He didn't want to say the slaughtered woman's name, he despised her his whole life even though she brought him into this world...and he wished she didn't. Not into this hellish realm of servitude. He wanted power; seeing her bleed upon the stone floor gave him that power.He had killed the wrenched angel. The only damned thing he gave a damn about...not his own grandson, oh no.He'd make him pay attention tonight.