The Unholy Prelude

The scene was gruesome: one boy, one girl, both small, ages eight and nine. There was a pool of blood that led into the sewers, enough to fill a watering tank. The girl was beaten with a frying pan, smashing her face until she was no longer identifiable. The boy was just as bad; he had been drowned and hung out to dry like laundry. His wrists were bloodied as if he had committed suicide. They now lay side by side on the pavement, each a reminder of the impenetrable darkness. The killings marked the beginning of the age of darkness. ©️

From my new book on Amazon. Fragments of Fright.