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- Clef dropped the gun and bull rushed her before she could recover, hitting her tiny midsection sharply and pushing her toward the mirror, grasping the red disk and shoving.
- They fell into a strange field, with rolling wheat and smells of emptiness. The girl was rolling on the ground, willing herself up off the ground pitifully. Clef stood nearby, knocking the bits of wheat and grass off his armor. He walked over and forced her body over, straddling her small, heaving chest.
- “Sorry, dearie,” he said, smirking. “Different world, different rules.”
- He placed both his hands around her neck and brought his thumbs up to her trachea. Tears ran down her face, her quivering lips pleading wordlessly with him to reconsider. As the brittle, malnourished bones snapped, her eyes thankfully glossed in the pleasant emptiness of oblivion.
- Clef stood and walked back toward the mirror. "Should have done that years ago…"
- ***
- Unfinished Business
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