Cora’s pov.
A large hand wrapped around my throat. Unlike the last time where it left merely the promise of death, this time, it was intent on actually bringing death with it.
The hand squeezed, air left my lungs, I clawed at the large, scarred hand that pinned me to the wall by my throat, I screamed, I begged, I cursed, but the large man didn’t let me go.
If anything his grip got tighter and tighter and he started laughing too, his laugh was mocking, deep, familiar… it changed and became rougher, louder, more menacing, now I could see the face of the person who was holding me… it was my papa’s face.
Evil and pale and pleased.
Something dripped onto my leg and when I dared to look down, I saw it was blood. Not my blood, papa’s blood, from the hole in his chest, in the same spot C
