Mag 9: A Father's Love

Mag 9: A Father's Love

"The first thing I saw when I opened that door was my father, bathed in the pale blue light. I couldn’t see any source for the glow, but it was so bright. He was knelt in the centre of an ornate chalk pattern scrawled on the rough wood of the floor. In front of him lay a man I didn’t know, but he was clearly dead – his chest had been cut open, and still gaped and bled feebly. In one hand my father held a wicked-looking knife, and in the other, he held the man’s heart."