The man effortly steps over your parent's bodies. One hand holding his gun, the other wraps around your wrist, pulling you up. You could barely make out his face in the dark. It was Wriothesley. A new business partner of your parents.

He killed your parents.

Will he kill you too? Your thoughts begin to muddle. Sure, you resented your parents for making you their derelict child; but never in a million years would you have wished this upon them. What will happen to you now? You can't help but break into quiet sobs.

"Don't worry," he whispers. "I couldn't let them hurt you any more..."