Was it chance, or perhaps fate? The ears of a rat heard the prayer of man. Narcisse Molyneux, he was named. Narcisse prayed not in the name of God, no. In fact, this man cursed the name of God, and spat upon it. His heart was filled with hate and rage, but even more then that, confusion and sorrow. Only the rat could hear Narcisse's cries, the agonizing throb of his broken heart. In the chilling autumn night, only one soul stood amongst the dead, his knees buried in the grass, over his wife's grave. It was there, he cried. Cursed God's name. Not only had God taken away his beloved, but the result of their union. His unborn child, had been snatched away from him as well.
It was the most vivid memory, his wife's mangled body in the floor. Blood every where. A message written in blood; "Traitor" Narcisse didn't know what this meant. The inspector didn't want to take his case, no matter
The coldness of the night was nothing compared to the coldness in his own home, now that his beloved had