He couldn't explain it, but a smile began to creep across his lips, as wide as the Kreszesk River. All he found was a man who had turned to murdering his own people for his own gains. What had he done? Who was he becoming? All this death and destruction, and for what? To satisfy the goals of a man he knew nothing about? Were all these lives truly worth his own, as well as Oxanna and Misha's? He searched his reflection for some sort of answer, desperately trying to validate what he was doing, what he had done. The screams, the explosion, that terrible cracking. Even now in the silence of the small apartment, the noise was deafening in his ears. He could still hear the rumble of the building starting to cave in. Discretion is advised.Īlyosha gripped the cold porcelain of the sink as he stared into the mirror, his body still trembling at the thought of what he had just done. This post contains scenes that some readers may find upsetting.
