Tipping the Scales

Enter Anpu

You wanted to scream, to cry, to do something as you peered around the column, watching as Harrow knelt. You had never been a violent person, even going so far as to condemn it most of the time, but the growing urge to wrap your fingers tightly around that man's throat made you consider otherwise. It would only be fair, right?

The old saying of an eye for an eye comes to mind.

Surely Harrow had caused enough evil for his death to be a favor, perhaps it was even an overdue justice for the trouble he's caused. Or perhaps that was your twisted sense of rage taking over at the moment.

You didn't want to look. You didn't think you could bear the sight of your friend floating on the water's surface, eyes still wide in shock. He felt so hollow, so empty. And in a way, so did you. Gods... It was only a few days ago that you had been having a laugh in the gift shop over something stupid. You never thought that things would end up like this.

Honestly, you had pictured that maybe one day you'd finally work up the nerve to ask him out for coffee. As something more than just friends or coworkers. And maybe, if things went well and you got really lucky, you'd find that you had room for one more in your flat. You found yourself thinking about him often at work, where you could see him working the register out of the corner of your eye. Sometimes you wondered silly little things, like if he had a favorite flower, or perhaps his opinion on 'The Mummy' from 1932. You had debated asking him to watch it with you, just to be able to listen to him ramble on about what the film did and didn't get right. You wondered if he noticed how you gazed at him when he went off on his tangents, the way your eyes softened at him, the gentle smile that would make its way to your lips. It wasn't your fault he looked incredibly kissable in those moments.

But things would be different now. Your stops at the nearby coffee shop would be for one tea instead of two. You wouldn't get to chat between your tours or hear him groan in response to your newest joke, trying to hide a hint of a smile. You wouldn't be able to listen to his ramblings or return his book. Oh, gods... you still had his book.

The sound of someone wading through water caught your attention and you resisted the urge to peek behind the column, instead choosing to squeeze your eyes shut. You weren't sure what Harrow and his band of followers would do to you if you and Layla were found. She didn't need to go through anything else, it was clear that the whole situation was a lot for her. In all truth, with the burning rage settling in your chest you were more afraid of what you would manage to do to them if they looked behind the column.

You let out a breath, counting down as the splashing retreated to the other end of the pool. There was a moment of silence, the only sound being that of the water lapping at the edges of the platform. Harrow broke the silence, his voice making your jaw clench as it echoed in the small chamber.

"I'm sorry it has to be this way, Marc Spector, Steven Grant, whoever else might be in there."

You glanced at Layla. She didn't meet your eyes looking down in thought, processing the situation. Another step through the water caught your attention as Harrow continued. Your stomach dropped.

"Sometimes we need the cold light of death before we can see reality."

A dark silhouette made itself visible between the two columns that you and Layla were hidden behind. Your eyes snapped to hers and she nodded at you in understanding. Before you could react Layla grabbed the man, plunging a blade into his heart. He let out a soft grunt and you prayed to the gods that Harrow didn't hear.

She nodded her head at you to stay close as she slowly stepped around the column to peer at Harrow. He stood on the steps of the small statue of Ammit, holding it above his kneeling followers beneath him.