house of laine

The door creaked open to the dark room. When Gideon entered, he almost thought he had the wrong one upon seeing the figure lying near motionless on the sofa before him. When it stirred, he almost thought it a stranger, but then he saw the fiery red hair that so many had likened to a jam jar, and...

Gideon sat at his desk like a ship wrecked on shore. His eyes, not colder than usual, but deadened, bearing no more spark than a corpse. The only signs that the man whom many called a near automaton was still alive, was the subtle rise and fall of his chest, and the single hateful tear dripping...