rikka takarada

“She figured it out on her own. Or rather, she simply didn’t believe Cyrilo’s story. She’s keeping quiet because she doesn’t want me and Cyrilo to get in trouble. It’s not fair to her, to have to bear this sin with us. Honestly, I’m no different. I’m grateful to Cyrilo for everything she’s done for Alexis and me, and without her, our literature program has no future. Our dream is to change the world by granting everyone the gift of knowledge, but is noble sentiment enough to make up for what we did? Is it wrong for me to protect her? To protect myself? To escape punishment under the excuse that we’re trying to make a better world?”

Thank goodness her dad couldn’t see her face, the result of last night had dried into a shiny flaky layer of lacquer all around her mouth. Sarah quickly washed the last of the evidence away and returned downstairs. Just as she sat back down on her stool her father slid a plate of eggs and toast in front of her.

He raised his gun and put a round between her eyes, causing Bojena to collapse like a puppet with its strings cut. All of the illusory bullets he hit her with before made her flinch in momentary fear, but this was different. At that moment, she felt death in all of its horror. She felt the darkness, the chill, the metallic taste of the end. This man, she had heard so many rumors about him, and he had defeated her so easily, but now she was left to wonder, was Death itself standing over her?