Blind Lies

Prologue

Two men stand, one with a shock of brown hair while the other has thin blonde hair, one in front of the other in a cold bedroom. A beautiful woman sleeps soundly on the only bed in the room, her voice occasionally tweeting in her sleep through the stony stares emitting from the other two people. The bleeding red and orange colours of the sunset filters through the wide window to the left of the room, casting a light glow but not, however, making the room warm. If anything, the glow seemed to make things cold and hard. Too real. The man with the mass of brown hair shakes his head quickly, suddenly, as if struck by a question that he did not want to answer. He drops to his knees, and doesn't wince as his taut muscles are slammed painfully onto the red linoleum. The man bows his head so that his curved, unshaved chin was pressed against the middle of his two collar bones.

"What will happen?" he asks, his voice gruff with emotion. Anger, the other man realizes with glee. The first man closes his eyes and clenches his fists, trying not to show his deep hate for the man who was controlling the world at that moment. His world. "What will happen to the child, Torrint?"

Torrint smiles, two teeth missing from his bottom set. His dead grey eyes search his fingernails, as if they were discussing the weather.

"Oh Sean," he says, not answering his question completely, "just wait until you can see what she can do. Her power swells more than anything, but you know, she has to sacrifice something for it. After all-" Torrint's eyes flash dangerously, "-I had to sacrifice many things for my power." He laughs dryly, but Sean doesn't join in. Sucking in a shaky breath, he briefly looks up into Torrint's eyes before casting a glance at his wife, his beautiful, wonderful wife who's newborn child was being bargained for and she didn't even know it. After a long silence, Sean re-looks into the evil man's horribly gaunt face, with something else bursting in his bright blue irises this time, besides anger. It was so strong that Torrint couldn't identify it immediately.

"I don't want my daughter to pay the price of something she was born with," Sean snarls, "and if you aren't going to set us free, I might just end up doing this."

Sean pulls out a tiny dagger from his boot, plunging it into his nemesis's arm. In shock, Torrint screams, unplugging it from his thin flesh. Surprisingly, no blood spills, even though Sean could hear the horrible sound of skin ripping, tearing, nagging.

"You've made a very bad mistake," Torrint cajoles, tossing the dagger into his other hand. He holds it up, a few centimetres above Sean's chest for a painstakingly long second; Sean was ready to die, Sean was done. He even closes his eyes to prepare for the moment it strikes his heart. But...nothing touches him. Instead, the door to the bedroom opens. Both men whirl their heads around, Sean with puzzlement and Torrint with knowledge. A woman carries a crying infant in her lithe arms. Her hair is straight and blonde, and piercing brown eyes look into Sean's face. He gasps, looking quickly behind him at the bed. His wife was gone. Sean frowns.

"Eva? How did you get over there?"

The woman who looks like his wife laughs, but Sean recognizes the laugh as one of a traitor. With dawning horror, he slowly looks into the beady eyes of the man, the man who did it all, who lied and lied to bring him here.

"Get it now?" Torrint says softly, threateningly. The woman laughs again, just as the dagger goes through Sean's life.